That’s not true
Shane replied just as I’d finally talked myself into shoving all my dirty laundry into the washing machine.
Sometimes you play sports or meet me for a beer.
Mixed cycle—seemed about right considering I’d thrown everything in without sorting. Functioning, barely. Hopefully my clothes would come out looking less rumpled than I felt.
Wow
What a rich and varied life.
It took a few minutes before Shane answered.
Okay, what’s going on with you?
Ah, damn. He was meant to celebrate his dad’s sixtieth, and here I was demanding attention like a toddler pulling on the hem of his sweater.
Sorry
Just having an off day. Ignore me.
What happened?
He asked, and yeah, I hadn’t really thought he’d buy my deflection.
I’ll tell you over a beer
Enjoy the party, give your mom a hug from me.
Tomorrow at 8. You, me, usual spot.
You’re on.
I inhaled, a shade lighter than before. My laundry was spinning in circles and so was my mind—but unlike the jeans I’d worn when I brought Finn home, I couldn’t just wash myself clean of memories. I didn’t even want to. And that, right there? Might be a problem.
I pulled up his name. Something in me quivered, as if I’d done a heavy abs workout and could still feel it the day after. This was… Jesus Christ. I didn’t do this. I didn’t get hung up on guys, didn’t lose myself in useless what ifs and if onlys. Yet that was exactly what I’d thought that first night, too, when I’d followed him to that hotel room thinking he charged by the hour—I don’t do this.But with him, I had. I did. The constant exception to all my rules.
Fuck it.
How are you feeling today?
Took a breath and sent it.
Five minutes of air. That’s all I needed—five minutes of air that wasn’t the stale, recycled kind, wasn’t weighed down by the smell of antiseptic.
Pale, cloudless sky arched above me, midtown glittering like someone else’s dream. An early October chill made the rooftop feel sharper—different from the first time Finn and I had met up here, when sweat had pooled between my shoulder blades, the sun beating down as if to punish us. A little over two months ago, back when he’d been barely more than a stranger I’d happened to see naked. A complication.
Now?
Yeah.
Little better
He’d finally answered this morning.
Less like I got run over by a truck. Maybe just a van. Twice. And then again.
Temp?
