Page 86 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

“There’s a Henry Sucks playlist?” That tracks. “Must be new.”

“No, Kait would never,” Julian says, his tone sincere. “It’s actually Henry with a heart emoji, awwww, but the music… ‘The Drugs Don’t Work’ by The Verve. That’s peak depressing.”

I say nothing and resist the urge to look at the new playlist. Sudoku is my friend.

“Henry?” His tone is gentle. I hate it. “Hey, Henry,” he says, trying again when I don’t look up.

“Yes, Julian?” I swallow, but I don’t look at him.

“This playlist is so sad. Everything’s fine, right? Everything’s okay?” I can’t lie to him. I’m fanfuckingtastic at lying to myself, but you have to draw the line somewhere.

“Not exactly. I mean…” I swivel my chair around so I can look out our windows and give Julian my back. “It’s not great.”

“Henry.” I’ve been looking everywhere but his eyes all morning. He stands up and walks around the desk so he can see my face, putting a hand on the back of my chair so I can’t spin away again. “Henry, I’m really worried about her. She…”

“I’m sure she’s fine, really. Can we please not today?” My tone says I’m done discussing it, and the words sound like something Kait would say, and that twists the knife.

“I’m legitimately worried, Henry,” he says, voice tight as he fidgets, lining up my pens like tidy little soldiers in a parade. “She was supposed to be here. Today. Hours ago. What if she fell asleep at the wheel? She had to leave Columbus early. Should I call the highway patrol?”

I meet his eyes for the first time all morning. There’s real concern on his face. Then his words hit me, like shrapnel, a sheer blast of understanding striking every inch of my body, and the damage is immense. Unsurvivable. Total devastation.

Kait. Here? Today?

No, but wouldn’t that be lovely? I wouldn’t be worthy of her if she did show up, but it’s nice to dream.

I look at Julian’s desk, and the picture becomes clearer. The chocolate chip cookies are classic Kait, the extra coffee, the birthday present wrapped and waiting. Cheap Kait, who, despite being frugal, has never missed an opportunity to buy me a present, and my birthday was Saturday. She sent me a card for Groundhog Day, for god’s sake—she wouldn’t miss my birthday. Kait saying she had good news that I couldn’t be bothered to hear. Our private line disconnected.

I didn’t think it could get worse. How wrong can one person be?

“Julian,” I say, my voice thin and scratchy. “You and Kait had a plan? Would you tell me more about that?”

He nods.

I’ve thrown gasoline on the dumpster fire that I’ve made of my life. A knife burns in my lungs, each breath searing like I’m dragging in flames. I can’t speak; I can barely breathe. I lean forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands in misery.

“Cookies and coffee here in the office. I made a fake entry to clear your afternoon. A reservation at your favorite restaurant. I figured if you hit it off, lunch would give you a low-stress way to spend a few more hours together.”

They had a plan. It was perfect until I got involved.

“Why?” I can barely speak. It’s a low, gravelly whisper unrecognizable as my voice. “Why was she coming here?”

“To meet her future bestie Julian, obviously. She also mentioned apartment hunting. She had lots of good news to share and asked about safe places to live ‘for a friend,’ but I think she was asking for her since she got into grad school at her first choice. Chicago was her first choice, wasn’t it?” He fixes me with a look, his eyes squinty and hard.

She never told me her first-choice school.

“She got into her first choice?” There’s a momentary surge of pride for her accomplishment that is quickly replaced by my insides twisting so hard I want to gasp. She tried to tell me. She wanted to share with me her accomplishment, and I wouldn’t hear it.

She must have been thrilled, and instead of listening, instead of being her friend, I was a gargantuan asshole. It doesn’t matter that I was coming from a place of fear; I was an unmitigated shithead, and I can’t even apologize. But nothing, not a single thing on this godforsaken planet, could be worse than finding out my amazing Kait was coming here to meet us and look for an apartment? I try to hide my face in my hands again, but Julian reads my mind and pokes me in the arm until I look at him.

“What did you do?”

I shrug.

“How do I know that she got in and you don’t?”

I say nothing and continue to pretend to play sudoku. Julian jams his finger into my arm again. “What have you done?”

“Why do you assume I did something?”