I pull over in a convenience store parking lot and reach for my phone. My best friend, Jessica Clarke, immediately picks up and her voice fills my car via the Bluetooth speaker.

“Hey, girl. I’m up to my elbows in flour. Want to come over and sample this new cronut recipe I’m trying out?”

I groan. Jessica’s been into baking ever since she and Leo got engaged. Leo owns a cafe on the island, and Jess is trying to learn how to bake. She’s pretty dismal at it, and bless Leo’s heart for being so patient. Her last attempt at mini-muffins turned out more like small piles of dry crumbs held together by paper wrappers. Jessica is throwing herself into this newfound domesticity. Nesting, she calls it. Painful, is more like it. 

She's tried to push her creations on me several times since I've been home, each time worse than the last.

“Jess. No. No cronuts. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that Diego was back on the island?” I practically yell.

“What?” she squeals. “Hold on.” I hear her call out to her fiancé. “Leo, can you take over? I need to talk to Cat. Yes, it’s important. More important than the cronut. The dough looks a little watery and smells yeasty, did you notice?”

I wince and make a face in the darkness.

There’s a muffled noise. “Okay, I’m here. What? Diego? I didn’t know he was back. How did you find out? Where did you see him? Did you talk to him?”

I tell her about delivering the pizzas and Jess giggles.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. Fifty pizzas. God. And he does what? Plays video games for a living? It’s like every guy’s dream job. Good for him for figuring out how to make money that way.”

“Um, Jess? I need you on my side here. I had wanted to prove to Diego that I was over him.”

“Well, are you?”

I sigh and pull out of the parking space. My family’s pizza shop is only a couple of blocks away. Not far from Leo’s bakery, in fact.

“I don’t know. I thought I’d finally gotten over the humiliation of the photos. But he’s the one who wanted to break up.”

“But Cat, he was right. You were going to New York for school. He was staying behind.”

“He could’ve come with me.”

“Could’ve gone with you to do what? He didn’t have a job, wasn’t accepted in school anywhere except community college in Fort Myers. And I’m sure his childhood memories of New York weren’t great. He was pre-emptively breaking up because he thought you’d leave him.”

I sigh. “I guess. He hugged me.”

“That’s a good sign.”

“Is it?”

“Did you hug him back?” I can tell she’s smiling by the way she sounds. Jess can’t hide when she’s happy.

“Yeah. But seeing him brought back all those old feelings of shame about the photos.”

“You need to get over that. Everyone sexts now. Nobody cares. Like anyone even remembers your photos.”

I mumble an affirmative answer. Jess is all about second chances because she and Leo rekindled their relationship in a somewhat grand way. But their situation was different, like a fairy tale. Her mom and Leo’s dad kept them apart.

She wasn’t publicly shamed like I was. She wasn’t rejected like I was.

I’m now parked in back of my brother’s restaurant, and all I want is to see if there are any more deliveries so I can get this night over with.

“Whatever. We’ll see. Let’s get drinks later in the week, ‘kay? Call you tomorrow.”

It’s raining again, and I slip out of my car and run through the wet. I stomp into the restaurant. It’s closed now, and thankfully all the customers are gone. Hopefully, there aren’t any deliveries, either.

“What’s that face all about?” My brother calls out.

I let out a half-growl, half-scream out of frustration. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

Scott’s girlfriend Amber is there, too, and she pauses from wiping down a table.

“Try us,” Amber says. “We had a guy come in tonight who was so obviously high on those bath salt drugs, we had to call the cops because he was threatening to eat people’s fingers. Or maybe it was flakka. That’s the new drug. Flakka.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Appetizing. That must have been good for business. Are there any more deliveries?”

Amber shakes her head. Of all the girls my brother’s dated over the years, I like her the best. She’s a part time yoga teacher and seems to be the only one who can soothe Scott and his spastic nature. Since they became exclusive a year ago, he’s become something of a Zen master. This is amusing since he – along with Diego – had been the biggest shoot-em-up gamer, all jacked up on Mountain Dew and Twizzlers while playing Call of Duty and Deer Hunter.

“It looks like you got drenched. Your makeup’s all over your face,” my brother chimes in. “And no, no more deliveries tonight.”

“Thank God.” I squint into a mirror on the wall that advertises beer and make a disgusted noise. “I look like a fucking clown.”

“Stop. You’re gorgeous. It’s a smoky eye look. So what happened?” Amber asks. She sees the positive in everything. Kind of like Jess. How am I surrounded by such upbeat people? Why do they bother to be around me when I’m such a buzzkill?

“I saw Diego Rodriguez tonight. All those pizzas? They were for him. And the two guys he lives with. They play video games for a living. They live in a mansion on the beach. One of their fans sent them all the pizzas. Can you believe that?”

“Yep. I heard about his streaming startup a while back,” Scott says in a mild voice. He and Diego used to be best friends. Until the photos. “He called me after Dad died.”

I pick up a stack of newspapers in a chair and pause with the papers in mid-air. “And you never told me this, why?”

My brother shrugs. “I didn’t think you cared. You hadn’t mentioned Diego since you left that summer.”

An indignant snort erupts from the back of my throat. “He was the one who said it would be best if I left. He was the one who broke up with me and crushed my heart. Or do you not recall that detail?”

As I glare at Scott, Amber breaks in.

“Diego, Diego, Diego.” Amber murmurs. She knows my entire tortured history with him. The last time I had talked about Diego with her had been Christmas, many months back, out of earshot of my brother and before my dad died.

I was home from New York, holed up in my house for a few days, not wanting to run into anyone from school. Jessica came over, and she and Amber and I drank beers and talked about love. That night, I forced Amber and Jessica to look at photos of Diego and me as kids, back when he moved to the area from New York and became friends with my brother. The three of us had dressed as characters from the Mario Brothers video game for Halloween. I also still had a framed photo of us with our arms around each other on the beach. It was taken that summer we were dating.

In fact, that photo is still in my room back at my mother’s house.

Flinging the papers in the trash, I nod. “Yep. Diego.”

Scott slips past me, squeezing my shoulder. “Don’t be so hostile. I had a long talk with him. We had coffee after Dad died. And we’ve hung out a few times since.”

“You did? You have?” My voice is higher pitched than usual. “Thanks for telling me. I’ve spent all this time thinking he went back to Puerto Rico to be with his family. I thought he had disappeared.” I didn’t mention that I’d looked for him on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and hadn’t found him.

Obviously, I hadn’t found him because he was now probably going by his gamer name. His stupid gamer name. Apathetic Fire.

“I didn’t want to upset you, especially after what happened with Dad. That’s why I didn’t say anything,” Scott says, pausing. “Diego was actually in Puerto Rico for a while, took a few semesters of college there. But came back to Florida and started his business. And he seems genuinely apologetic about what happened between you two.”

“Does he know about me? About New York?”

“You mean, how you were fired?” my brother asks.

I nod.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Good. What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him. I don’t want him thinking I’m some sort of sexting slut.”

Scott makes a disgusted noise. “Stop it. We all know you’re not. Diego knows you’re not. Maybe forgiveness isn’t such a bad thing, Cat. I’ve forgiven him, you know. It wasn’t his fault. He was—is— absentminded, and that’s why he left the phone behind.”

“Who said I haven’t forgiven him?” I shoot back. Like Scott had to forgive Diego for anything. It wasn’t his body paraded around the island.

Scott scowls. “You can’t hold everything in. Don’t be like ...”

“Like Dad?” I ask softly, thinking about how stressed he was in the final years of his life. Despite all his obligations and problems — my expensive private college tuition, the foreclosure of the rental property, his mortgage business drying up — Dad never said a word. He kept smiling and running marathons and working. Of course my dad had a heart attack.

Scott nods once and looks down at the floor.

“Whatever.” I shrug. I hate thinking about Dad’s death. Or Mom called me in New York, frantic, one Sunday. Your dad’s missing, she had said. He hasn’t come home from his morning run.

Police found him slumped on a park bench at the beach, dead.

“No whatever, Cat. Don’t give me that snark. You need to talk about what’s hurting you.” My brother’s big into yoga, ever since dating Amber. Lately, they’ve both been imploring me to let go or forgive or some crap. He’s probably right, but I’m not sure I’m ready. Or if I can.

I help Scott and Amber clean the restaurant silently because I’m lost in memories. Painful ones. Maybe Scott’s right. I should open up more. Maybe I can forgive Diego, and he and I can be friends again.

Or more.

No, more isn’t a good idea. For either of us. I’m leaving as soon as I can get a new job, anyway. More would lead to disaster. An inferno. Heartbreak. It’s not like we ever really dated. We went from childhood friends to a hormonal, intense … thing … almost overnight.

It was like we inhaled each other after being buddies for years. He kissed me that June weekend at Disney, while everyone else was watching fireworks. Made some fireworks of our own. Even without the photos, it probably would have never lasted, anyway. Relationships never do. I would have moved on. He would have moved on.

And he did move on. I haven’t gone anywhere, it feels like.

No, it’s best to put our past behind us, for the sake of my own pride. Plus, from the look of him, he’s no longer interested in geeky girls with glasses. He’s more like a bro with a brand now. My mind spins, and I can’t wait to check out Apathetic Fire online. I roll my eyes, just thinking about that name.

He’s probably an Internet celebrity. A guy who gets bottle service at clubs in Miami. A guy who can snag any woman he wants with the swipe of his thumb on a dating app.

I hate guys like that. Went out with a couple in New York earlier in the year, guys I had met on Tinder. They were more interested in getting me in bed and counting me as another conquest. One guy I actually met IRL with had been up front about it: I was his third date that week, and he fully expected me to blow him before the night was over.

“I want to nut all over your face,” the guy declared. I’d never been so horrified.

“Maybe there’s an app for that,” I’d replied, grabbing my purse and stomping out of the bar. I was so sick of being humiliated by guys and technology. Admittedly, because of the high school photos, and the whole thing with the congressman at my former job, I’m touchy about tech and sex. Still. It seems like guys can’t even talk to women these days if they don’t have a screen in front of them. And when they do talk to a real, live woman, they have no idea what the hell to say.

My next relationship, if I ever have one, will be tech-free.

By now, I’m on a rant in my head. And what was Diego’s comment about my weight? My irritation rises as I remember his sexy voice and his words and how they made my heart stutter. How could he still make me feel so unsettled and confused and … turned on, all at once?

“Anyway, it’s not like Diego wants to see me again,” I blurt. Scott and Amber look up, startled, since I’d been quiet for a while. “He didn’t ask for my number.”

“I’m sure he can find you,” Scott says. “He knows my number and where you live. Or, you know, you could call him. Or visit him. I don’t think he gets out much because he’s running that business.”

“Right. I’m sure he goes out a lot.” I snort, and Scott and Amber exchange some sort of meaningful glance that I can’t read. What’s the extent of Diego and Scott’s relationship? Maybe they’ve become close again, without telling me. The thought makes me uneasy.

“Maybe you need to swap forgiveness for acceptance. Approach him with an open heart and clear mind.” Amber says, tossing her long, wheat-colored hair behind her. That’s the way she talks. Peppers her conversations with words like karma and dharma. I want to roll my eyes but she grins at me so sweetly and then bows with a little, silly yoga prayer gesture that I laugh.

“Namaste to you, too, bitch. You’re silly and New Agey, you know that, right? But I love you, Amber.”

She giggles. “If I can get through to your brother, I can get through to you. Did you know he’s stopped playing all video games involving guns and violence? He’s started to play these online puzzle games. I’m so proud of him.”

Scott and I lock eyes – his are the same blue as mine – and we grin at each other. My annoyance evaporates. I’m happy for him. Really. I am.

“Cat, you going straight home, or do you want to come for a beer with us? We’re going to the Sloppy Iguana,” Amber asks. That’s the other reason I love her. She eats kale and is all into exercise, but still indulges. She’s cool. Maybe when I grow up and become enlightened, I’ll be like her.

I shake my head and my stomach clenches when I realize I have to go home. “I’m heading to the house. I want to check on mom.”

She nods, and we walk to our cars. Scott pulls me into a hug, and I try to squirm away. “It’s gonna be okay, Cat. Trust in the universe.”

Oh, God. The universe. I hate the freaking universe. I roll my eyes as I extricate myself from my brother’s arms.

By the time I make it home, I’m fully depressed. The weight of the stupid universe and the steamy night air presses down on me like a heavy blanket.

Being here, seeing people from my past, it’s too overwhelming.