Casey hasn’t tried to call me for almost a week, which is why it kind of surprises me when I pick up the phone and hear her say with forced confidence, “When’s a good time for me to come get the things I have at your apartment?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Well, I have some stuff that I need to get back. You can’t keep it.”
I don’t think she does have anything at my apartment, but after a year and a half of dating it makes sense that she would, so I don’t argue.
“When do you want to come get it?”
“Today if I can.”
“Okay. I’ll be here.”
“I’ll be over in an hour.”
She hangs up. I think about finding whatever shit she’s talking about and putting it all in a box on the curb so she can just take it and go instead of hanging around my apartment longer than necessary, but I don’t really know which shit is hers and I’d probably end up giving her something of mine by mistake, which she’d take to mean something it didn’t. I’m also fully aware that this is, more than likely, just a ploy for her to see me again, maybe in hopes of luring me back to her fat ass. I hope that playing along will give her some sort of closure so I never have to see her again. I decide I should play an old Xbox game. I decide to play Mech Assault 2 until she shows up, which turns out to be an hour later.
When she comes in she says, “I’m sorry about that night I showed up here. How have you been?”
“Okay.”
“So have I. I started my next Groundlings class.”
“Great. I didn’t know which stuff you were talking about.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
She rummages through a pile of papers and Playboys on my coffee table. Her mom’s letter falls out onto the ground and she picks it up.
“Is this from my mom?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
“A letter.”
“Obviously it’s a letter, but like why would she write you a letter?”
I shrug my shoulders, knowing she wants to read it more than anything. She puts it back in the Playboy, closes the magazine, and tosses it down on the coffee table a little too nonchalantly.
“My Groundlings teacher said I have the most potential of anyone in the class.”
“Great. Do you know exactly what you have over here?”
“Just some things.”
She goes in the closet and pulls out an umbrella that I think my mom gave me when I moved to L.A.
She says, “Like my umbrella.”
She opens a cupboard in the kitchen area, pulls out a box of tea, and says, “And my tea.”
She walks back into the bedroom and comes out still holding just the tea and the umbrella. She says, “Are you doing anything right now?”
Fuck. I should have just thrown some of my shit in a box and left it on the curb.
“No.”
“Do you want to go get a cup of coffee with me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Just like to talk.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“I just don’t want to.”
“It’s because I came over to your house and yelled at you and now you think I’m a psycho.”
“No, I just don’t want to.”
“Well, then, let’s have dinner this week.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Why can’t you just have dinner with me and talk to me about this whole thing?”
“It’s better like this.”
“Like what?”
“Just over.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Sorry.”
She starts to tear up. She starts crying. She says through sobs, “Aren’t you even going to hug me?”
I wish I was anywhere else. I think about Alyna. I think about telling Casey that I ate Alyna’s pussy and she sucked my cock.
“I don’t think so.”
Her sobs become convulsive. She sits down on my couch and cries into her hands.
“Why? I just like don’t understand why.”
I don’t say anything.
“Can you just tell me why you’re doing this?”
“I already did.”
“Because you want something I’m not?”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t even like make sense. I was something you wanted for a year and a half and now I’m just not? What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to know. If you broke up with me you have to know.”
I don’t say anything again. I know that anything I say will only prolong this already annoying situation.
“I mean there has to be something that changed.”
I stand as still as I can and try not to breathe. For a split second I think I might be able to coax her into sucking my cock or fucking me, but it’s probably not worth the effort.
She says, “It was the engagement, wasn’t it?”
Please something happen. A car wreck right outside my door. A gunshot through my window. A fucking phone call for fuck’s sake. As I think this my cell phone actually rings. Casey sits on the couch, still crying as I answer it. It’s Alyna, who I’ve only talked to once in the two days since she sucked my cock.
She says, “What’re you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m done with work. Can I come over?”
“When?”
“Now.”
“I haven’t taken a shower or anything.”
“That’s fine. Neither have I. We can take one together. I’ll be over in ten minutes.”
She hangs up. The slightly less than comfortable familiarity she’s approaching in whatever kind of relationship we might be on the verge of having makes me a little uneasy, but the thought of soaping up her ass and tits in my shower generates a spark of excitement that alleviates it; and the crying-ex-girlfriend-sitting-on-my-couch situation seems slightly more pressing.
I say, “Okay, you have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired of arguing about this.” Even as I say the words it hits me that I owe Casey nothing, but something makes me think telling her about Alyna would make the entire situation worse. I wonder if Alyna has any interaction with her ex-boyfriend and if it’s similar to mine with Casey.
She says, “Well, I’m not leaving until I get an answer or until you at least promise to get coffee with me.”
“Fine.”
“Fine what? The answer or the coffee?”
“Coffee.”
“When?”
“I’ll call you.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, but I’m holding you to it.”
She gets off my couch, wipes the tears off her face, and leaves.
I sit on the couch where she was sitting for about two or three minutes thinking about the last time Casey and I fucked. I wish I had blown a load on her stomach or put my dick in her ass or done something to signify it as the final time I would put my cock in her. Alyna rings my doorbell, shifting my thoughts back to her soapy cunt in my shower.
She walks in and says, “Hi,” then kisses me, sees the tea that I now realize Casey left sitting on the coffee table along with what I am now sure is my umbrella, and says, “I would have never guessed you for a tea drinker.”
The shower we take five minutes later yields a pretty good and immediate soapy hand job that leaves me no opportunity to even attempt fucking her. Instead I repay the favor by making her cum as I finger-fuck her up against my shower door. The dinner we eat afterward at Jerry’s Famous Deli is filled with conversation about trivial things that ignore the nature of what seems to be a burgeoning relationship, but nonetheless is the only conversation either of us wants to have.