Chapter Six
Veronica
I took a sip of my coffee. It was almost cold. After one of the servers had come to my table twice trying to take my order already, I had just given in and gotten a chai latte. I had tried to tell them that I was waiting for someone, but since I had been sitting here for thirty minutes with no partner in sight, I didn't believe myself, either.
Being late wasn't some kind of unforgivable crime. All Sean had to do was call me or text me that he was running late, just let me know in advance. Either that or he had to have a bulletproof reason why he was late once he got here.
What made it even worse was he was the one who had asked me on this date, the least he could do is show up. Sitting alone in a coffee shop was fine, I just didn't appreciate being stood up. I had rescheduled plans to accommodate this guy, and he didn't even have it in him to show up on time to a date he had asked me out on.
This was sort of just what I got though, wasn't it? It was just the same shit different day. He was always like this. Sean could be a nice guy sometimes, but then he would do shit like this and I had to wonder whether I could just stay home the next time he asked me out and see whether it even made a difference.
My phone lit up on the table next to my hand, just like he had heard me mentally talking shit about him. I picked up.
"Sean?"
"Veronica? Hey, where are you right now?"
"Where am I? I've been waiting for you for almost forty minutes, where the hell are you?"
"Listen, I'm not gonna make it for our date." I rolled my eyes. I wished I could be surprised by his behavior, but at this point, his flakiness was just expected. Just because I expected it, though, didn't make it any less infuriating.
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why won't you make it? You can't set plans with people and wait till the last minute to break them."
"Something came up, okay? Shit, what's the matter with you?"
"Don't call me making plans unless you know you can make it."
"What are you? On your period or something?" he asked.
I sighed and hung up on him. He was the one who had flaked on me and he was wondering why that would make me upset? What a loser. I drained my coffee and paid for it. I texted Tiffany when I got to my car. I had asked her to come to my place after I got back from the date with Sean, but there had been a change of plans.
Sean tried to call me back, and I ignored it. He had gotten way too much of my time today – I didn't want to hear it. In the beginning, he had tried to throw an excuse in here and there about why he couldn't make it when he flaked on dates, but it was like he had given up pretending to cover his ass. I could understand being busy, but the man was not busy unless he was getting paid for playing Mass Effect in his apartment all day. He didn't have a job that I knew of. I knew from the number of times he was absent in class that that wasn't what was eating all his time up, either.
I was less heated by the time I got to my apartment. Tiff had been on campus, so I knew she would probably be there when I got there. We walked into my building minutes after one another and took the elevator together.
"Sorry if this was sudden," I apologized as I unlocked the door.
"I know you're only early because Sean canceled," she said playfully.
"How did you guess?"
"Because I'm pretty sure you've never made plans with him that he actually followed through with," she said. The sad truth. I couldn't even fight her on it because of what had just happened.
"I would have hung out with you anyway," I said defensively. She plopped down onto the couch, and I followed suit. I only had one because the apartment was small, and I didn't need another anyway. It was a one bedroom near campus and I knew that once I didn't have to be near school anymore, I was moving away. Saving money on furniture meant I had more socked away to do everything I hadn't been able to while living here.
"I know that the real question is why you hang out with him."
I shrugged, thinking about it a little. He was a nice... Okay, not nice, but he was an okay guy. He wasn't bad to look at, having brown eyes, sandy hair, and a face that blended hard and soft just right so the result was masculine, but still almost pretty. He was tall, which was always a plus, and lean despite never taking a lot of time to work out... Was that it though? Was that all I could come up with in his defense?
"I like him," I said hollowly.
"You have to be the only other person besides his mother who can make that claim," she quipped. I laughed.
"He isn't that bad once you get to know him," I said.
"Yeah, he's probably worse. Why the hell are you with this guy?"
"I told you, I like him."
"No, I mean really. He always cancels on you, nobody who knows you likes that you're with him, and he's a waste of your time. What is it? Do you really see boyfriend material when you look at him?"
"I just think he can change if he has the right...encouragement," I said.
"Are you two even exclusive?"
"No, but that's not the point. I don't want to just give up on him. I really feel like he has it in him to be a better guy."
"Honey, he doesn't have anything in him. You're projecting. He won't change, he doesn't care about you half as much as you do about him, and you let him get away with murder. Dump him," she said bluntly.
"The sex is good," I offered weakly.
"I don't believe that. It can't be good enough for you to entertain everything else. You're invested."
"Are you saying all this because you have a replacement for me?" I asked.
"Almost any guy would be a good enough replacement for that asshole." I laughed a little. I could hear what she was saying. If I found it funny when she roasted him, instead of wanted to defend him, yeah, I was thinking the same thing she was.
"Point one out to me. I swear, finding a good guy is fucking impossible."
"They're either taken or gay," Tiffany agreed solemnly.
"Oh, shut up. You have a date every single weekend," I sniped playfully.
"Yeah, but how many guys stick around longer than that?" she challenged.
"Whatever. Don't tie yourself down. You're still young," I said loftily.
"You're older than me by nine months, grandma," she joked.
"Yeah, but I already know what a great relationship feels like. It's hard not to look for that in other guys," I said.
"You and Rome?" she asked.
I nodded. I heard one time that you need half the duration of a relationship to get over it. According to that theory, I wasn't over Roman yet. I needed another six or seven months before I was. I wasn't sure about all that. I felt over it. I hadn't seen him since he had dumped me, and he had made himself pretty clear about what he had wanted then so I hadn't spent a lot of time hanging on to something that wasn't there. I don’t love you anymore; that was what he had said. It had hurt at the time, but what was clearer than that?
"It's a little hard not to compare when I'm with someone new. We were both young and almost three years felt like such a long time."
"Looking for Roman in every guy you meet is a recipe for disaster," she said.
"I know that. I just can't treat it like it didn't happen, like it didn't change all the standards I thought I had for guys before meeting him."
"If it's like that, then why are you still with Sean? Fixer-uppers aren't cute, they're work. They just hold you back while making you put up with their bullshit. The fact that you believe they can change just means they really don't have to. You'll be there for them either way."
"Is this an intervention?"
"Yes," she said confidently, sitting up straighter. "I think you should see other people."
"No," I said quickly.
"Come on, you said he was dating other girls. If you two haven't agreed on being exclusive, then what's the problem?"
"I don't want to juggle a bunch of guys. I'm not built like that."
"Don't give Sean boyfriend privileges when he isn't your boyfriend. Just go out on a date with someone."
"Hello? Didn't we just say that all the good guys are either taken or gay?"
"I know a guy from work who I think you might like."
"What are you gonna do? Set us up? Blind date style?"
"One date, Vee. Just one date," she insisted.
"If he's such a good guy, why don't you go out with him?"
"We work together. I don't shit where I eat," she said smirking. "So?"
"I appreciate the help, but it's still a pass," I said.
"Tell me, what is Sean doing right now?" she asked.
"I don't know. I didn't ask him."
"Does he know what you're doing?"
"No. Where are you going with this?"
"Did he even reschedule? Act interested in making it up to you some other time?"
"I ignored his phone calls," I admitted.
"Then that means you feel it, too. Just let me set you up. Most guys who are worth anything won't leave you hanging after making you wait for them."
I sighed. Things with Sean were... They weren't good, but they weren't really that bad, either. Tiffany was right. If I could let his phone calls go unanswered, that meant I wasn't as into him as I was trying to convince her or myself that I was.
"Who is this guy from your work?" I asked.
"Don't worry, you'll love him," she said.
"Can you at least tell me what he looks like?"
"Trust me, Vee. I think I know you well enough to know what you're into."
"Just don't set me up with a married guy," I said, giving in. What was the worst that could happen? I thought. I wasn't cheating on Sean by seeing other people and even if this guy Tiffany knew was a piece of trash, I didn't have to see him for more than the one date I had agreed to go on. If he wasn't, hey, at least I'd get to feel what it was like to make plans with a guy for a date and have him actually show up the way he said he would. A couple hours passed before Tiffany had to leave.
It was barely nightfall, but I didn't have plans to go out again. I went to my room to take my make-up off. I'd probably whip something up for dinner, lose a few hours to HGTV, then call it a night. My purse hadn't made it all the way back to my room after the botched date with Sean. I sat it on my nightstand, opening it up to see whether I had any loose receipts, then I saw it.
The pink was muted but still beautiful and clear. It was rose quartz; I found that out after showing it to Tiffany for the first time. That was also when I found out she hadn't helped him pick it out. The chain was still shiny and new, probably because I didn't wear it that much anymore. Or at all – I didn't wear it at all anymore. The gold chain and pink stone caught the light and shone up at me from the open space of the nightstand drawer that I had forgotten to close.
It had almost been a casualty when I was clearing all Roman's stuff out practically a year ago. I had a lot of his clothes, he had a toothbrush here, and there was this mug that he always used when he would come over. I wanted to burn all of it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had ended up donating the clothes, throwing out the toothbrush, giving away the mug, and burying the necklace in a forgotten drawer.
I recovered it when I was moving into this place and again, didn't have the heart to throw it out. I had gotten over the relationship, but it hadn't been long enough for me to stop seeing it as a piece of jewelry Roman had given me because we had been in love.
The way it had ended made it easy for me to be bitter. Hearing him tell me I didn't have a place in his life anymore was sometimes enough to poison every kind, loving thing he had said to me since we had started going out.
The necklace was objectively beautiful, with or without its backstory. I could think of it independently of him. One day, I'd even be able to wear it again. I closed the drawer and went back into the kitchen to make something for dinner.