Chapter 17
Ex-boyfriend
The next day I awoke from an afternoon nap to someone banging on my door. Ruby and Erica stood outside. I gestured for them to come in, figuring that Erica and Bacon had another fight. They marched inside, leaving the inner door open.
“My boyfriend is cheating on me!” Ruby announced.
“What?” I asked, groggy from being woken up so suddenly.
“Do you have anything to drink?” Erica demanded, heading to the kitchen and opening the fridge. “Oh good, vodka.” She pulled out the bottle and began pouring.
“Tell me again what’s going on?” I asked. Erica handed me a glass of pure vodka. “Gross, I can’t drink this stuff,” Ruby said. She turned to me. “I went to Mike’s dorm at my undergrad this morning. He had another girl in there. In bed with him,” she emphasized. She looked down at the glass in her hand and then took a big, grimacing, gulp
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
“Guys are jerks,” Erica added, her eyes watching as someone walked by the window. “Isn’t that…” she began to say as I saw Kellen do a double take in the walkway.
“Hey ladies, what are you up to?” he called from outside the screen door.
“Love sucks!” Ruby yelled, holding up her nearly empty glass.
I walked over to stand by the door but I didn’t open it. “Apparently we’re drinking vodka at three in the afternoon.”
“Care if I joined you?” Kellen asked.
I hesitated, wondering what the nicest way to say no would be.
“Come on in!” Erica shouted. “We’re just talking about how much guys suck. I hope you don’t mind.”
He came in, the screen door slamming behind him. I watched as his green eyes wandered my living room, taking in the fish-shaped Christmas lights over the window, the Luke Skywalker poster hanging in the center of the wall, the various science fiction paraphernalia on my new bookshelf.
“Hey,” he said, picking up the Yoda puppet he’d given me in the 6th grade and sliding his hand inside. “Do or do not. There is not try,” he said in his best Frank Oz impression.
I suppressed the urge to grab it back from him. He seemed to catch on and set Yoda back on the shelf.
“Do want a drink, Kellen?” Erica asked with a snide glance at me.
“No.” He slipped his hands in his pockets, seemingly unsure what to do, as if he, like me, was wondering why he came inside my apartment in the first place. Erica and Ruby occupied the only two chairs in my living room and I sat on my coffee table. Kellen plunked down on the carpet.
When Ruby finished explaining her morning’s adventure, Erica launched into a long diatribe about Bacon.
“And what about you, Tamara… Tammy? What’s your guy story?”
“You know it,” I said softly. “Joshua’s gone.”
He took a breath, but I continued, “Other than that, I have no guy stories.”
Just then the phone began to ring. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” Erica asked.
“I usually let the machine get it.” All four pairs of eyes focused on the little white box as it clicked on. My voice announced that they’d reached Tammy Tymes and that I wasn’t home. “Yo, Tammy, this is Andy. I just wanted to see if you were home so we could hang or something. I’ll try ya later.”
“Who’s Andy?” Kellen asked.
“A guy I met this weekend. But how did he get my number?” I eyed Erica. She shrugged. I wondered why she’d give out my number to some jerk with a girlfriend when she wouldn’t give it to James, a guy who might have actually been my type. “I’ll just screen my calls for a week,” I said. “He’ll go away. They always do.”
“At least he called,” Ruby said.
“It’s always the ones you don’t want that do,” I told her, thinking I’d better train her in the art of being single; although with her looks, I imagined it wouldn’t be for very long.
As if on cue, the phone rang again. This time it was Bacon. “Tammy?” Bacon’s voice reverberated through the apartment. “Tammy, is Erica there?” Erica picked up the phone. “What?” she demanded. She listened for a minute and then put her hand over the receiver. “Does anyone want to go over there tonight?” Ruby and I shook our heads. Really, this was starting to get ridiculous. Erica took the phone into my bedroom.
“Bacon is the guy from Saltines?” Kellen asked.
Ruby nodded. “He’s a bit big for his britches.”
“Way too big considering how short he is,” I added.
Erica reentered the living room. “Bacon said if you guys come over, you’re guaranteed to ‘get some.’”
“I don’t want ‘some’,” I replied, eyeing Kellen. His gaze was focused on Luke Skywalker. In truth, what I really wanted to do was go to back to bed. My back tightened with cramps, letting me know my period was on its way.
“Craig’s going to be there,” Erica added.
“Who is Craig?” Kellen asked.
“Bacon’s roommate,” Ruby answered him.
Kellen stretched his legs out. “Hey, a couple of guys I know from law school are having a party tonight. Do you want to come?”
“Why not?” Ruby replied, waving her empty glass at me. Wordlessly I went into the kitchen to refill it.
I couldn’t decide what Kellen’s motive for staying was: whether he was bored on a Saturday afternoon, trying to rekindle our friendship, or trying to hook up with Ruby. Maybe it was a combination of all three.
Kellen left to pick up some Chinese food while Ruby and Erica went to get dressed for going out. Kellen came back in brandishing the brown bag of food and a six-pack of amber beer. He’d changed his shirt and smelled of cologne. When Erica and Ruby returned, we created a makeshift picnic on the floor, employing my beat-up coffee table to hold the food. Kellen used his chopsticks to nab a piece of orange chicken from my bowl.
“It’s spicy,” he said.
“Yeah, I like it hot,” I replied. I felt as though my face turned the color of my chicken. Where did that come from? The vodka must have gotten to me. I eyed my old friend, wondering if he ever figured out how much I liked him in high school. I could never read people very well.
While Kellen was in the bathroom, I tried to convince Ruby and Erica to go back to Coconuts. I was secretly hoping James would be there again. “The law school get-together is going to be full of stuffy old bores,” I told them.
“Stuffy old bores that are going to become lawyers,” Erica insisted.
“Bacon might end up at Coconuts.”
Erica broke open her fortune cookie. “A love interest is in your future,” she read aloud.
“Bacon?” I asked her.
“Let’s hope not,” Ruby said.
In the end, we girls decided to go to Coconuts. Kellen dropped us off on his way to his party.
Of course, as soon as we headed into the beer garden, we spotted Bacon and Craig. They were standing with a group of guys that Erica pushed through. “I thought you were going to be hanging out all night in your apartment,” she said in an accusing tone.
“I’m not going to sit around all night, waiting for you,” Bacon replied.
I glanced at Craig, ready to mock Bacon and Erica by rolling my eyes, but he was in the process of shaking Ruby’s hand. They began the usual, “what’s your major,” talk while the guys surrounding us discussed football. I headed to the bathroom to cover up the fact that I’d been left out of all of the conversations.
“Tammy!” someone shouted as I came out.
“James!” I exclaimed. He was standing at the inside bar. I headed over. “You’re here again?”
“I came to see you,” he said in a soft voice next to my ear. I don’t know if it was the vodka or my loneliness that caused me to turn my head towards his lips. He met my kiss enthusiastically. When we came up for air, James looked over my shoulder and gave a small wave. I turned to see Erica standing behind us. She narrowed her eyes and gave me a dirty look before turning toward the bathroom.
“Is everything okay with her?” James asked, nodding at the door to the restroom, behind which Erica had retreated.
I shrugged. Something about the way she’d looked at us hinted that she was not all okay. “I’d better go check on her.”
“Erica?” I asked when I’d entered. It was still early enough that the bathroom was nearly empty.
Erica came out of the stall. Her eyes were red.
“Bacon again?”
“How could you, Tammy?”
“How could I what?”
“How could you make out with James right in front of me like that?”
My mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry?” was all that came out.
“You should be,” she replied, although I’d said it because I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, not that I was actually sorry. I wasn’t even sure what I should have been sorry for. It’s not like she was interested in James. She had Bacon.
“I’m calling a cab,” she said, heading to the door. “Are you coming or not?”
Still flabbergasted, I followed her out. She went back to the beer garden to find Ruby. I had the distinct feeling that I did something wrong and needed to soothe Erica by going home. I headed back to the bar. “I think I have to go,” I told James regretfully. “Erica’s really upset.” I refrained from adding, “again.”
He sighed as he grabbed a napkin. “Here’s my number. Will you call me later?”
I nodded, putting the napkin in my purse as I caught sight of Erica and Ruby walking toward me.
The cab ride back to the Village was silent. Ruby and Erica, on either side of me, stared out of their respective windows. Erica asked them to drop her off at B first. I paid the driver when we got to Building A.
Ruby finally broke the silence as we walked up the stairs. “You know she liked James, right?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “She was set on going to Bacon’s earlier.”
“Bacon’s a jerk,” Ruby reiterated. “James in an engineering major,” she continued, as if this explained everything. What I wanted to reply was that Erica couldn’t just lay claim on any guy she wanted. But I didn’t. I went back to my apartment, unlocked the door, and sat in the same spot on the floor Kellen had occupied earlier that night, staring at my poster of Luke Skywalker.
That night I thought I was still awake when my bed covers fell to the floor. All of a sudden, the pile of blankets morphed into Kellen. I realized I must have been dreaming because the blanketed form of Kellen yelled at me, “Get over it and I’ll go away.” I told him I was over it (whatever IT was) but he was still there. He told me he’d be there all the time until I could get rid of him by myself. I told him to “go away, go away” over and over, but he wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t shake him off and it terrified me. But the worst part is, when I finally woke up to reality, I didn’t feel the least bit relieved. I felt like he was still there.
Shaken, I finally rose out of bed. The clothes I’d worn to the bar last night were on the floor. I found my purse and opened it, pulling out the crumpled-up napkin with James’s number on it.
Even though it was only 7:30 in the morning, I dialed his number anyway, leaving my phone number on his answering machine. After I clicked the END button, I immediately thought, “What did I just do?” Erica had been majorly upset with me last night. I imagined she was still a little fragile about the whole Bacon thinking I’m “beautiful” thing. Even though that wasn’t my fault, and, likewise, it wasn’t my fault I felt a spark between James and me. But she’s not scot-free, either, I reminded myself. She told Bacon I liked his roommate, which angered me more than I had admitted at the time, making it uncomfortable for me to be around Craig at the bar last night.
At any rate, if dating James meant hurting Erica, I wouldn’t go through with it. If it came down to it, of course I’d pick her over him.
To distract myself, I connected to the Internet and checked my bank account. My student loan money had finally been deposited in my account, and, as a reward, I decided to triple my seating space by purchasing a futon from Ikea’s online store.
After that, I wasn’t sure what to do. It was too early to call anyone else, my impromptu call to James notwithstanding. I wandered into my bedroom and picked up the clothes that were still on the floor. As I was hanging a shirt, my hand bumped into the Joshua box. Without thinking, I pulled it down to the floor and opened it. The “bad” letter was right on top. I hesitantly placed it on the floor under the box lid and rifled through the box until I found his last “good” letter, dated the day he left camp for England, October 31st. He ended it with the following paragraph:
Also, don’t ever think that you will hurt me, because I know you won’t. You love me as I do you, and with that we have trust between the two of us which is unbreakable. I’m here for you, now and forever, I will protect you. Please know that I love you big style.
I love you, forever.
Joshua
P.S. This fairy tale has just begun
I began to think that’s what it was: only a fairy tale. But nobody lived happily ever after in this one. Except for maybe Joshua and his Englishwoman with bad teeth.
I spent the rest of the morning writing my next paper. We all had the same assignment: to discuss what happened when the sperm met the egg. When Hobart had originally assigned us the task, I started giggling, as uncomfortable as the day my tenth-grade health teacher first used the word “penis.”
“If some people aren’t mature enough to handle it…” Hobart had said, glaring in my direction, the threat left unfinished. I supposed I’d always been immature. It seemed like I was always a step behind my female peers in things like getting my period, having my first kiss, losing my virginity. At one point I thought I’d grown up, but even now, when a lot of people my age were starting their first jobs, I was still in school.
After I’d reached a stopping point in my narrative, I decided to take a nap. When I woke up, I still felt exhausted, although the clock confirmed I’d slept for two hours. Finally, I rose to check my answering machine. “You have five new messages,” the electronic voice proudly declared. Ooh, goody. Five is a new record. Let’s see.
One: Jane—just wanting to catch up.
Two: Cornelius my building manager—to tell me I left my front door wide open all afternoon. Good thing nobody accosted me while I was sleeping.
Three: Erica— “Call me back, it’s important.” Shi-it.
Four: James— “Hey, Tammy, I’m really glad you called. I’ll be out of town for a couple of days but here’s my cell phone number. Call me back, I want to talk to you.” Double shit.
Five: Denny, my boss from camp—“Tammy, give me a call or just drop by camp when you have a chance.”
I called Erica first.
“Bacon and Craig are having a get-together tonight. They want you to come.”
“Who does?”
“Well, I do, at any rate. You have to go with me.”
I was really starting to get tired of this routine: Erica calling me up to tell me to do something, usually involving her twisted relationship with Bacon. But, then again, at least she was speaking to me. I needed to get more information on the situation with James, preferably with alcohol involved.
“I can’t tonight. I’m arm deep in sperm and egg.”
“Gross,” Erica declared, but she followed the statement with a giggle.
“Listen, how about you and Ruby come over Thursday night? I’ll even cook you dinner.”
“Are you going to invite your friend Kellen?” Erica’s tone was casual.
“No, why would I do that?” It was enough just to be juggling the Erica/James situation without adding him to the mix.
“Whatever,” Erica replied. “A dinner party sounds good. I’ll let Ruby know tonight.”
“Is she going with you to Bacon’s?”
“Yep. Craig saw her at the bar the other day, and all he can talk about is how hot Ruby is.”
But he barely even talked to her, I wanted to reply. Traitor.
After I hung up the phone, I mulled over the Craig/Ruby thing for a while. At this point I’d given up on Craig and I getting together. If he wanted Ruby for arm candy, because everyone else thinks she is so hot, then that makes him artificial. Or else maybe he wanted her for her body, which makes him superficial. Me, I’d like a guy to want me for my heart, mind, and soul. Somebody I could connect with on more than a physical level.
I’d managed to avoid Kellen since Saturday, but that night, I dreamt that he and I became a couple. The odd part was that—in my dream—no one, not even Corrie, thought it was strange that we were dating. As if we had always been meant to be together. Once again, I woke up terrified. It’s as if my subconscious was out to betray me. Or maybe it was because my psycho guardian angel wanted me to fall in love with my sister’s boyfriend. “Ex-boyfriend,” I could almost hear Kellen whisper as I pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge, which promptly fell out of my hands and onto the floor. I grabbed a roll of paper towels, ripping them off one at a time to cover the smashed yolks. Yesterday I’d written a full paragraph in my paper about where the chick would form if the eggs would have been fertilized. Now my floor was covered with a dozen unfertilized baby chicks.
I glanced at the clock, realizing I didn’t have enough time to do a full clean-up of the raw eggs. unless I wanted to face Hobart’s wrath for being late to her class. I threw on some clothes and ran out the door. As I walked down the stairs of the Village, I noticed something seemed strange. Of course I was wearing two different shoes. They were nearly the same style, only the one on my right foot was brown and had a higher heel than the navy blue one on my left foot. I was forced to run back to my apartment and find the other navy one. It wouldn’t do any good trying to be professional, walking around without shoes and egg yolk on my socks.
After class—and finally cleaning up my kitchen floor—I took a bus to the store. The futon was on its way, but I needed someplace for my guests to sit and eat. I picked out a relatively inexpensive but still cute table that came with four chairs. A guy from my apartment complex took pity on me and helped me unload the boxes from the bus, but his kindness did not extend to hauling the boxes upstairs. I took hold of Giant Box #1, leaving the other ones at the curb with the hope that no one would want to go through the effort of stealing them. As I was lugging it up the stairs to my apartment, of course I ran into Kellen
“Need some help?” he asked as I tried to maneuver out of his way.
“No,” I said hesitantly. My desire to show Kellen that I didn’t need him anymore shrunk in comparison to the fact I had two more giant boxes waiting at the curb. Not to mention I had no idea how to manipulate said giant boxes into a table and chairs.
Without a word, Kellen’s hands slid under the box and he easily shifted it into his arms.
“What is this anyway?” he asked when we reached the top of the stairs.
I squeezed past him, keys in hand. “I think it’s a table. Or it might be the chairs.”
“What do you need that for?”
I stuck the key into the lock. “Just because.” I didn’t want to mention the dinner party as then I’d feel obligated to invite him.
“Does that mean there’s another box of whatever else somewhere?” he asked as he deposited the box inside my apartment.
I gestured in the direction of the parking lot.
After we’d brought the remainder of the set upstairs, Kellen found some scissors in my desk drawer and cut open the top of one of the boxes.
“Don’t you have class or something?” I asked as he began to read the assembly instructions.
“Just got done. You?”
“I’m supposed to be writing a paper.” Standing, I looked over him. The directions seemed really complicated.
“Why aren’t you then?”
I shrugged.
“Do you have a Phillips screwdriver?”
“You don’t have to put that together.”
“Who else will? You?”
“Last time I checked, you weren’t exactly mechanically minded, either. Or is there a Choose Your Own Adventure book on how to put together Wal-Mart furniture?”
Kellen held up his hands. “Easy, Tammy. I was just trying to help.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I went to the kitchen and found the toolkit my dad left when I moved in. I pulled out a screwdriver and handed it to him before sitting down next to the pile of particle board and bags of screws.
“I need a Phillips, not a flathead.”
“Oh.” I peered into the toolbox. After a minute of fruitless searching, I just handed the whole thing over to him.
After Kellen located the proper tool, he asked me how my classes were going. I decided to expound on the one thing I was good at, telling him about the Hobart office conversation and the possibility of a prestigious internship over the summer, which reminded me that I’d forgotten to return Denny’s call. I asked Kellen about law school as he began separating the pieces into smaller piles.
“It’s fairly competitive,” he said, screwing in one of the legs to the top of the table. “It seems like everyone is trying to one up each other. If I told one of my classmates about getting an internship at a law firm for the summer, they’d probably reply that they’re getting a paid position with the state supreme court or something. And the professors are really extreme. They do this Socratic method thing where they call on you to ask your opinion on a case, and then pretty much rip your ideas to shreds in front of the rest of the class. The only saving grace is knowing that the next day it could be one of the people snickering in the back who gets called on.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him, gathering pieces of cardboard and ripped plastic bags into a pile. “We definitely don’t have that in my program.”
Just then the phone rang. Kellen paused underneath the three-legged table to look over at me, one eyebrow raised.
“Machine,” I told him as it clicked on. We both listened to James leave another message asking for me to call his cell phone.
“Who’s James?” Kellen asked as he used the end of the screwdriver to keep track of his place in the directions.
“A guy I met. I might like him, I think. Only problem is supposedly Erica does, too.”
“What about that short guy—what’s his name? Pork Product Something or Other?”
“Bacon,” I supplied.
“Right. Isn’t she still—”
“I don’t know what they are. Anyway, I’m having her and Ruby over tomorrow night for dinner to try to make up for the fact that I kissed him.” I didn’t mention the me calling him part. I conceded to include, “You can come if you want.”
“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your girl time.”
“Consider it payment for helping me with this,” I told him.
After he was gone—leaving in his wake a fully functional table and set of chairs—I began planning out the meal I was going to cook. Considering that I didn’t know the difference between a flathead and a Phillips screwdriver, I felt the need to impress Kellen with my hosting prowess.
As I laid in bed that night, I wondered if Kellen ever saw me as more than his former best friend/ex-girlfriend’s twin sister. Did he think I was the same person I was in high school?
I wasn’t interested in Kellen. Not anymore. I just wish my subconscious/guardian angel would catch on, I thought right before I fell asleep.
My psycho guardian angel took pity on me that night and I dreamt only of the eggs drying out on my kitchen floor hatching into live chicks. When I woke up, I polished off my paper and printed it. I handed it in to Hobart and, after class, headed to the grocery store. At least I could always rely on the bus system.
I found some cute pink pasta in the shape of hearts. I think it was on clearance, probably left over from Valentine’s Day, but the expiration date was still a month away. I bought some chicken breasts, garlic cloves, and ready-made white sauce to go with the pasta. I also bought frozen garlic bread and an ice cream cake.
Okay, so I’m really not cooking much at this dinner party, I decided as I watched the cashier ring it all up. But that was not the point.
What was the point, then? I asked myself on the way home. I guess it came down to trying to prove to my friends—and myself—that I was capable of being an adult.
Kellen arrived while I was still cooking. “Do you need any help?” he called from the living room.
“No,” I replied. I held the garlic press in hand as if I knew how to use it. Which I didn’t, so I settled on chopping on the garlic with a knife. I glanced over at my progress on the stove. Why was the water so pink? I reached into the boiling pot with a wooden spoon. The dye from the pasta had colored the water, but the pasta seemed to be the right firmness. I drained it and then added the white sauce to my cooked chicken. The sauce immediately turned brown for some reason. The phone began to ring. I ran out into the living room to turn off the ringer. I was afraid it would be James and I didn’t want Erica to know he had my number. I picked up the answering machine to see if I could unplug it and noticed a volume button on it. I turned it to the lowest setting, realizing that way, if it was James on the phone, or he called again later, he could still leave a message and Erica wouldn’t hear it.
As soon as I went back into the kitchen, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Kellen stated.
“Thanks,” I called and then started to fumble with the foil of the garlic bread. As I recalled from the few times I made it for my family, I could just shove the whole thing into the oven, wrapper and all.
I went out in the living room to greet Erica and Ruby. My guests were already seated at the table.
“I like this new set,” Erica said, “but you could really use a couch.”
“I ordered one,” I said defensively as I set out the cutlery. “It’s on its way.” Oh god, I only had three forks. No problem, I decided. I’ll just eat my pasta with a spoon.
“I’m starving,” Erica declared. “What do you have to drink?”
Crap, I forgot alcohol.
“Here,” Kellen said, indicating the bottle of red wine sitting on the table. “I didn’t know what we were eating, so I bought a pinot noir. It can go with a lot of things.”
I wasn’t the most adept at pairing wine with food, but I’m pretty sure Sommelier 101 teaches you that chicken should be paired with white wine. Oh well.
The oven began buzzing. I pulled out the garlic bread and sliced it, noticing as I did that the middle was still frozen but the crust was burnt. I grabbed the wrapper. Apparently I was supposed to poke holes in the aluminum foil for this brand. I popped the slices into the microwave and then plated them.
If my guests were surprised to see pink pasta paired with brown sauce and blackened garlic bread, they didn’t say anything. Not even Erica, who dug into her pasta with enthusiasm.
“This looks good, Tammy,” Kellen said. But he began to cough as soon as he put the first forkful into his mouth. “Did you put garlic in this?” he asked after a large sip of wine.
Erica held up a large crumb. “Apparently.”
“I guess I didn’t chop it fine enough,” I said quietly.
Kellen waved his arm in front of his eyes, which had turned red. “It’s fine, Tammy.”
The rest of the dinner went off okay, if you disregard how my guests gently picked the large pieces of garlic from the pasta, and the fact that I dropped the ice cream cake on the kitchen floor. Everyone else was still in the living room, so I picked it up and put it back on the tray, hoping there wouldn’t be any residual egg yolks on it.
As Kellen was setting the plates in the kitchen sink, he asked me if I had any Tums.
“Great,” I told him. “You got sick from my cooking.”
I gave him the evil eye until he said “It’s not you Tammy—it’s me,” with a giant grin.
I was getting sick of his purposefully ambiguous comments. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I have a weak stomach.”
“Since when?”
“Since college when I was diagnosed with acid reflux.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” I turned on the water to rinse the plates.
“It’s fine. I usually bring my own, but I forgot tonight. I’ll survive.” He moved beside the sink. “Let me do that.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll just do them tomorrow. I should probably go entertain my guests.”
“Hello?” Erica called from the living room.
I shot Kellen a grin. “See?”
I joined Erica and Ruby at the table as Kellen followed with another bottle of wine.
“Is it weird being the only guy with a bunch of good-looking girls?” Erica asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“Not really,” Kellen said as he refilled my glass.
“Hey, have you guys seen that show Elimidate?” Erica asked.
Ruby shook her head as I asked, “Which one is that?” I watched a lot of late-night dating shows.
“The one where the guy goes out with five girls, and after each round he eliminates one of them. At the end, the one that’s left gets another date.” Erica nudged Kellen, “So, which one of us would get eliminated first?”
Kellen glanced back and forth between the three of us. “I’m not sure.”
“C’mon,” Erica insisted.
“Well, Tammy did cook dinner tonight, so I should probably keep her around for a while.”
Erica took a long gulp of wine and then turned to me. “Did I tell you that Craig has a thing for Ruby now?”
I nodded, deciding not to let Erica know she had a piece of pasta stuck in her front tooth. “Do you like him?” I asked Ruby.
“Not really.”
“Who’s Craig?” Kellen asked.
“Bacon’s roommate.” Erica set her glass on the table. “Tammy hooked up with him a couple of times.”
“Once,” I stated loudly. “Only once.”
“Besides, my ex-boyfriend e-mailed me this morning,” Ruby added. “He wants to get together to talk.”
“The one that cheated on you?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said softly, with a glance at Kellen.
I leaned forward. “Are you going to meet with him?”
“Probably. Just to see what he has to say.”
“Elimidated,” Kellen called out, pointing at Ruby.
“Me? Why?”
“You’re still hung up on your ex-boyfriend,” Kellen replied.
“Well, if that’s the case, Tammy should be out too,” Erica declared.
“Then you’re out because of Bacon,” I told her.
“Bacon and I broke up,” she said, scooting her chair closer to Kellen’s. “So you don’t have to elimidate me.” With her dark hair and full-figure, Erica looked nothing like Corrie, but right then she reminded me of my sister.
“Hey Erica,” I called. “There’s something in your teeth.” I scraped at my own to demonstrate.
She shot me a dirty look—channeling my twin even more—before getting up. “Be right back,” she said, putting her hand on Kellen’s shoulder. He shot me a bewildered look.
“Your answering machine’s blinking,” Erica told me when she finished cleaning her teeth. “You should check it.”
“That’s okay,” I told her.
“What if it’s Joshua?”
“It’s not,” I said resolutely.
She stood directly in front of it. “It could be important,” she said, hitting play. She furrowed her eyebrows when no sound came out. “What’s wrong with this thing?”
I silently thanked whoever invented the volume button for that machine. “It might be out of batteries,” I said, crossing my fingers under the table that Erica wouldn’t notice that it was plugged into an outlet.
“Do you dance, Kellen?” Erica asked as she sat back down.
“Sometimes.” He drained the rest of his wine.
“Tammy likes to dance up on Bacon when she goes out,” Erica stated.
“I do not!” I shouted, looking at Ruby to defend me. She played with the stem of her wineglass instead of replying. “What are you talking about? I would never date Bacon.”
“Bacon’s definitely not Tammy’s type,” Kellen added.
I glared at him. What did that even mean?
“But she’d date James,” she shot back.
I could feel my face get hot. “Erica, where is this coming from?”
“James is the guy that called you yesterday?” Kellen asked.
“I knew it!” Erica said, pointed at me. “You gave him your number. Is that James on the answering machine too?”
“It probably is,” I wanted to strike back at her for the Bacon comment. Not to mention that she was clearly trying to throw the Craig/Ruby thing in my face. Maybe I should call James back, I thought briefly. If only because he chose me over Erica, even over Ruby.
Erica told me she couldn’t believe I lied to her twice, first about kissing James and then about giving him my phone number. “It’s probably not even him on the answering machine.”
“Why else do you think I turned the sound down?” I asked.
“He seemed pretty eager to talk to Tammy when he called yesterday,” Kellen announced as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Some friend you are,” Erica said, shoving the chair into the wall as she got up.
Some friend you are, I wanted to reply. Taking every guy for yourself. And I didn’t give James my phone number; he gave me his and I called him. But I couldn’t tell her that.
“C’mon, Ruby. Let’s leave Tammy and Kellen alone,” Erica grabbed her purse. “Watch out for her, Kellen. She’s poison.”
“Whatever, Erica,” I managed to say before she slammed the door behind her.
“Are you okay?” Kellen asked, breaking the sudden silence.
I shrugged, pretending to be cool, even though my heart was pounding from the confrontation. “I’m fine.” I picked up their wine glasses and brought them into the kitchen.
“Are you ever going to call James back?” Kellen asked when I returned to the living room.
“What’s the point? He’s probably a jerk, like every other guy. And it would just piss off Erica even more.”
Kellen sat back. “Does it matter? She seems pretty determined to be angry no matter what you do.” Just like Corrie, I thought as he asked, “Why are you even friends with her?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he dated Corrie for so long. But I didn’t. Instead I faked a yawn. “I’m pretty tired.”
“Yeah, I have an early class tomorrow.” Kellen rose. “You sure you don’t want me to help me with the dishes?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Hey, Tammy?” Kellen turned toward me, one hand on the screen door. “You’re better than all of them. Bacon, Ruby, Erica, probably even this James guy.”
“Good night, Kellen.”
“Good night.”