Page 102 of All The Ways to Miss You

I turn off the CD and follow, making sure she stays put. She’s in the kitchen raiding the fridge, piling random items on the island.

“What are you doing?”

“The least you can do is make me lunch. I’m starved.”

forty-eight

I make Shelby lunch, and later, dinner, and after, dessert.

“I’ve got a stomach of steel,” she claims as she hovers over an entire homemade peanut butter pie while slurping on milk from the carton.

“And you wonder why you can’t get a guy,” I say, knowing it will hit a nerve. I grin.

She flings a forkful of filling at my face and nails me in the eye. The goo slides down my cheek and into my palm. I eat it because that’ll be all she shares unless I piss her off, making her throw more.

“What do my eating habits have to do with dating, dickhead?”

“Nothing, except you would be the most expensive date on the planet.”

“I can buy my own damn food. I just need a guy for sex—for at least half of the time. The other half, I’m fine on my own.”

“Only half?”

“Oh, sorry, should I be a full-time Hand Solo, like you? How’s that working for you?”

I give her a look. She knows how it’s working. Terrible.

“Well, good thing Miss Awesome is back. You can finally play lightsaber with someone else.”

“Not happening.”

“Why the hell else would she move back if she didn’t want to patch things up?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Please, Evan. Make me understand why you have a shrine to this woman in your home, why you haven’t had sex in five years, and why you hide in this apartment, away from every beautiful woman who wants you?” Shelby’s voice intensifies.

“I don’t hide.”

She rises, grabs her keys, and marches for the door. But before she leaves, she stops to finish me off. No one ever escapes her wrath without an earful.

“Evan, you’re the suckiest best friend ever. Every time we hang, you let me blah, blah, blah about my amazing life, but you never tell me anything interesting about your own. This is a very fucked-up, one-sided friendship. I’m demoting you until you can be straight with me. Is that what you want? Because if you think it was lonely in here before, it’s about to get really scary without my charismatic personality to brighten your boring-ass days.”

“Will you just sit down?”

She twists her lips to the side. This is how I know she’s ticked.

So I say, “Fine, I’ll tell you everything.”

She runs across the room, leapfrogs over the back of the sofa, and lands on her back, stretched out in a reclined position. She adjusts a pillow near her neck and laces her hands behind her head. When she’s relaxed, she says, “You may begin.”

I groan. I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

I sit on the armchair near her and start. “Fourscore and a million years ago, I posted an ad on the student union’s billboard for a new roommate, but my friend Steph knew this girl who needed a place to crash.”

My story continues until midnight. For the most part, it placates Shelby. What’s more annoying is she’s making it her goal to see that Cait and I get back together and live happily ever after. Which in a perfect world, would be amazing, but Shelby makes some interesting points I haven’t had time to consider in the last eighteen hours.

She insists Cait isn’t the same person anymore. She couldn’t be with everything she’s been through, and neither am I. So maybe leaving the past in the past is the best solution, and acquainting myself with Cait as she is now might be the first order of business.