That night, Rachel calls me.
She says she misses me!
I’m relieved. But nervous.
Of course I’m nervous.
I deserve to be shot.
“Can you believe, Maise,
I haven’t heard from Gino
outside one brief phone call!
He was supposed to model for me again.
He says he loves my drawings of him.
He told me his mother
was taking him away for the weekend.
Something’s off, Maisie, way off!
Don’t you agree?”
“I guess so…,” says the breathless hypocrite
on the other end of the phone.
So I drop by her house
and listen to her Gino theories
while I braid her hair.
It’s the least I can do.
We slow dance to the radio,
singing the Patsy Cline song.
“Oh crazy
For thinking that my love could hold you …
I’m crazy for trying
And crazy for crying
And I’m crazy for loving
you.”
But really what’s crazy
is how I’m letting this boy
become everything to me.
What’s crazy is
how I’m lying to my best friend.