“The stuff you left in his car? Last week, he asked me where you were, he wanted to get it back to you.”
And the award for liar of the year goes to…
“Oh, right. I remember!” I smile brightly. “I’m gonna head home. Text me if you’re coming back to our place tonight,” I add.
I know Becca, though. There’s no way she’ll sleep anywhere other than her boyfriend’s bed, and so my evening looks set. It’s going to be me, my comforter, and a new romance—whichever one I pick fromthe endless TBR pile next to my bed. I’m in the mood for something light, a meet-cute rom-com, maybe. Just something to take my mind off things. I’ve had about all the drama I can handle lately.
ON MY WAY HOME, Idecide to turn off at a coffee shop a little farther down the street. I need sugar of some kind.
The bell tinkles as I push open the door. As I wait in line, I take in the space, scanning the crowds of students, before my gaze settles on something. Or someone, I should say.
There by the window at the back of the room is Donovan, chin resting on his fist as he stares out at the sun-dappled park, absent-mindedly stirring his coffee. He looks so sad, and my heart aches for him.
Girl, get yourself together—if Donovan Wolinski is feeling down, it’s not your drama.
I should just turn and leave, let the guy figure his shit out by himself. But my feet have a mind of their own, and before I know it, they’re carrying me over toward him.
Tell him you’re sorry, and leave it there.
Before I have time to change my mind, I slide into the booth across from him, drumming the table with my fingers. He’s still gazing at the people coming and going outside, and I clear my throat three times before he even looks up.
“What’s up, Wolinski?” I ask, trying for casual.
“You look like shit!” I add brightly when he doesn’t respond.
Really, Carrie?
He sighs. “What are you doing here, Carrie?”
“I was just walking by, when I started picking up on this huge wave of negative energy. So, I thought I’d drop in and check it out.” I peer at him. “Word has it, I’m a nice girl with amazing people skills. You know?”
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because normally when you talk to me, it’s kind of more…”
“Cutting?”
He shrugs, bringing his cup to his lips.
The original plan was to keep it simple—come over, say hi, apologize, and exit. But I already know I’m going to need to dig a hell of a lot deeper.
“Okay, no more good-cop act. I’m just going to ask you straight—what’s your problem?”
Great job, Carrie…
“Phew!” He rests a hand on his chest. “Now,that’smore like it. I thought you were broken, or I’d fallen into some parallel universe or some shit—somewhere you actually treat me like a human being, you know?”
“Quit the bullshit,” I snap.
Yup. I’m definitely a great communicator.
“I’m fine.”
“Sure you are—a true ray of sunshine.” I shake my head. “Seriously, I’m going to get this out of you, no matter what.”
“Since when do you care?”
“Since you suddenly quit—”
“Harassingyou?” His knuckles blanch as he squeezes his plastic cup. “I got the message, Carrie.”
