Seven

 

ANGELA

 

“Crystal, stop bringing it up. It's been almost two months now, and I still haven’t heard from him. If he felt an ounce of what I felt, then he would’ve looked for me. I left him my phone number, he knows where I work, and knows I’m friends with LeeLee, who just happens to be his friend’s wife!” I yell out the last part into the phone.

I’m sick of hearing about how stupid I was for leaving that morning. For the past seven weeks I’ve been beating myself up for not waking him up and speaking to him, but then my mind reminds me of the lies he told me about who he really was.

Plus, I did leave my contact information for him. I remind myself for the thousandth time.

I never told Crystal or LeeLee the name of the guy I slept with. I told them it was a guy who was new to town, and it was just a one-night stand. But my girls know me better than that, and keep hounding me to give them a name. They want to help find him, because they know he had to mean something for me to finally have sex. My answer’s always the same, leave it be.

“Angela, you can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy the sex. You also can’t deny that you didn’t feel something more than you've been trying to tell LeeLee and me. Spill it, woman,” Crystal screeches as I get in line at my favorite local coffee shop.

“How many times do I have to tell you this story already?” I groan. “It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced before. I know you told me sex was good, but I think it’s so much more than that because of how he made me feel. Like I was the center of his world. At least that’s what I felt. But we both know the truth to that since he hasn’t even taken the time to call me.” Tears start to sting my eyes and I swallow them away. I don’t want to think about this anymore.

“Angela, babe . . .” she sighs.

“Okay, enough about my one night of wonderment that I had a couple months ago. I’ll be heading to mom's this weekend. She’s going on and on about this new guy who moved in next door. I was supposed to meet him a while back, but he had plans and went out of town. He didn’t get back until late last night, and he’s supposed to come by so he can grab his mail. He has no damn clue she’s setting him up for a date of sorts with me. I swear, one day I’ll end up parentless because I’m going to kill her,” I whisper just in case someone hears me.

Everyone knows that if nobody hears it then you can’t be charged with conspiracy to commit murder. I know my girl will have my back and deny this whole conversation.

“When are you done with the book signing?” I question as I wait in line to order.

“I get back on Monday night. I’m super excited for this signing. Naughty in Nashville is going to be the event of all events. Can you believe I'll get to meet Aurora Rose Reynolds, Sarah O’Rourke, Nina Levine, Kim Jones, Sapphire Knight, Cassia Brightmore, Lance Jones, Victoria . . .” I zone her out, and instead focus on the breads in the window display.

If I don’t do this, then the jealousy I feel over her getting to meet these amazing authors will get to me. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a fantastic writer, and she deserves this opportunity. I’m thrilled for her. She always gets me signed books from my favorite authors as well, but what I wouldn’t give to go and meet these amazing writers in real life. “Angela, are you listening to me? I swear half the time as I list these authors you're ignoring me.”

“Totally ignoring you. But know that I’m excited for you, and love you deeply.” Crystal's laugh comes through the phone line and has me smiling. “Okay, do you need a ride?” I take a step up to the counter and point out the gingerbread loaf that catches my eye.

“Nope, I have an Uber ordered to meet me at the airport. I love you too, bitchface, and will bring back goodies for you.”

“I also need a twenty-ounce white chocolate mocha with an extra pump of white chocolate and three pumps of raspberry,” I finish my order then continue my conversation. “Okay, then I’ll meet you Monday after I get off work, at the apartment. Love you, whore. Have fun.” I put my phone into my purse and dig for my wallet.

“Angela, I got it. How have you been? I haven’t seen you around campus lately.” I jump at how close the voice is to my ear. “I’ll have a sixteen-ounce black house coffee.” A twenty-dollar bill is passed over to the barista, and I turn to see who's behind me.

“Oh, hey! I’ve been great. How are you doing?” For the life of me, I can’t remember his name. I know he’s in some of my classes and study groups. I haven’t had a chance to go to them for a month, so his name slips my mind.

“Busy with clinicals. Maybe we can catch up next week during the weekly study time. Will you be there?” He asks me as I grab my coffee when my name is called.

“I hope so. It depends on work–”

“Black house coffee.” He reaches for his coffee, and I adjust my purse on my arm.

I spot the time on my watch and realize I only have thirty minutes before I have to be at my mom’s house.

“I’m sorry, I have to run. I’m supposed to be at my mom's shortly. I hope you have a great weekend, and we can catch up Wednesday.” I give him a smile then turn toward the door. However, my bladder gets the best of me and I find myself rushing to the bathroom instead.

Oh well, if I’m a few minutes late, it's not a big deal. Bathroom first, then Mom's. Maybe I’ll end up missing dinner if I just stay in here. It's an idea I consider for a few moments, until I hear Mom’s ringtone. Maybe, not.