“Of course.” A scoff. “He’s sort of paranoid about people in the office finding out, I guess. Not that he needs to be—all anyone can talk about is what a mess his brother is at the moment. Turned up to a client meeting this week and was immediately sick in the recycling bin.
“Anyway, James and I haven’t been out in public since we went tothat bar. But I get it. And I sort of like that we have this little thing just for us. He’s also so different than I thought. He wants to live life to the fullest. It makes me feel more alive, too. None of my exes were like this, Care.” A drop in my stomach. “I promise I’ll be careful. This isn’t…This is not going to end like the others.”
She’s suspiciously silent for a moment. “I really want to believe that.”
I shift in my seat. “It’ll be fine. Promise.”
“There’s a chance it could mess up your career.”
I snort. “What career? You care more about that stuff; I just want to be happy.”
“Okay.” She sighs. “Speaking of, I’m going to have to go; my break’s about to end, and these skinny half-caff lattes with double pumps of low-sugar vanilla syrup aren’t going to make themselves.” She pauses to laugh. I laugh along with her. “At least it pays the bills while I wait for a casting director to give me a half-decent job.”
“It’ll happen,” I say. “You’re so hardworking. So talented.”
“All right, all right. I wasn’t calling for you to blow smoke up my ass. Speak soon, and don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t.”
“Okay. And be careful.”
“I will.”
“All right, Natty. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
And then she’s gone.
And then the words that feel too heavy to say. “I miss you.”
Giving myself one final big stretch, I get up from the sofa and ready myself to leave the house. Before I know it, I’m out the door and walking to James’s place, sure that I’m going to keep my word. I’m almost proud of the strength of my conviction. But I really ought to remember that pride always comes before a fall.
Dear Luca,
I’d love to say that the embarrassment of Marc leaving me to hook up with my racist bully cured my need to seek male validation, but you were proof that it didn’t. If anything, it made it worse. I’d strut around on uni nights out with my tits pushed up to my chin and my ass nearly falling out of my skirt on the hunt for someone just like you.
And then there you were, a varsity king who wanted to give me—ME—the time of day.
I can’t begin to tell you how good the attention felt. How much it fed me. I was too busy gorging on your flattering words to hear how empty they were. I was too stupid to realize that just because you said you liked me, it didn’t mean you respected me. Even a little.
In the end, my humiliation was so complete that I died a little before you did. And I wish I could say that when I heard you were dead, I was sorry. But the day you died, I made myself eggs royale for lunch with a mimosa on the side, and cashed in my birthday voucher for a hot stone massage.
It was bliss. Even if I had to start to acknowledge the monster living in me. Because I knew feeling this good about something so awful wasn’t okay.
But I guess sometimes you just can’t help how you feel.
9
Ex Number Two
Luca
“Maybe see you after our social, yeah?” Luca says.
“Yeah, I’ll probably be about. Drop me a text,” I reply.
“Will do, champ.” He gives me a wet kiss. His curls are still drenched from the shower, crowding his forehead. Fresh and strong cologne floats just above the smell of the varsity hoodie stretched across his broad shoulders. The hoodie is faintly damp, like the rooms in his student house, which is moist in all the wrong places. I left a pair of shoes in Luca’s room for a few weeks and they grew actual mold.
