“He went to CVS to get us some condoms.”
“At least his heart is in the right place…” I rolled my eyes. “Seriously though, if you’re not one hundred percent sure, just tell him what you just told me. He’ll have to understand.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Find someone who does.”
“Right,” she said. “Are you still thinking about breaking up with Emily this weekend, or are you going to try and make it work?”
“No.” I walked over to my bedroom door and shut it before completely answering. “It’s definitely over. I’m not feeling it anymore, and I’m beyond tired of all the arguing, her erratic craziness, and feeling like I have to check in every hour on the hour.”
“This is your fourth breakup in a year. I think it’s time for you to give the girlfriend thing a rest.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ve finally accepted that I’m not the relationship type, and I’ll be making my single status very clear after tomorrow. I need to be single and enjoy life before law school starts anyway.”
“So, you’re saying that you’re going to be a whore this summer?”
“I’m implying that.” I smiled. “There’s a difference.”
“There’s really not…Oh! Gotta go! Scott just pulled up in the driveway so I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye!”
I hung up and grabbed another beer from the fridge. As I was shutting the door, a plate whizzed by my head—inches away from my ear. It hit the wall and shattered onto the floor.
“What the—” I turned around to see a red faced Emily. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“With me?” She tossed another plate at my head and missed. “What’s wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Only one of us is currently using plates as a potential murder weapon right now…”
“You’re breaking up with me tomorrow? Days before graduation?”
“If I say yes, will you stop throwing my goddamn plates?”
She threw another one, but it landed near the stove. “I thought we were going on vacation together this summer! I had tons of selfies and sex planned, but all of sudden you’re willing to throw it away? Just like that?” She was talking faster than ever. “I know I text you all the time, but only because I worry and like you so much, and I’m a journalism major so I see stories that would make your mind explode... People are out there dying every day, Carter. Every. Day.”
“Okay…” I shook my head. “Exactly how much Adderall did you take today?”
“Our perfect future aside, you’re breaking up with me and I have to hear about it from a phone conversation you’re having with someone else? That’s messed up, Carter! Beyond messed up!”
“You’re right.” I held up my hands in a slight surrender. “And I’m actually very sorry about that, but yes, I am breaking up with you tomorrow. Well, right now, actually…” I decided to give diplomatic option one a go. “It’s not you, it’s me…”
“Are you being serious right now?”
I went for diplomatic option two. “I just don’t think I’m the man you’re looking for.”
She was silent for a long time, glaring at me in utter disbelief. I was hoping she wouldn’t try to talk me out of this, otherwise, I’d have to go with the less than diplomatic reason and dodge more plates.
“You know what?” She set down the remaining plates in her hand and slid her bag over her shoulder. Then she walked toward me. “I should’ve seen this coming miles away; should’ve known that you would never bare your soul to me like I bared mine to you.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay the night,” I said, glad she was somewhat accepting. “I never said I was putting you out. I can take you home tomorrow.”
“Oh! So, now you want to be a gentleman?!” She hissed. “Please! My best friend is outside waiting for me.”
“Well, in that case…I’m sorry we didn’t work out.”
“You’re really not,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re not sorry because you don’t really want a girlfriend, Carter. You’ve never wanted one, and do you want to know why?” A slight purr escaped her lips and I was more than convinced that ending this relationship was for the best.
“Ask me why.” She pushed my shoulder. “Ask me why you don’t need a goddamn girlfriend!”
“Why don’t I need a girlfriend, Emily…?”
“Because you already have one…You always have…” She pushed me harder. “And her name is Arizona Turner.”
I raised my eyebrow, completely confused.
“So, fuck you and her, and I hope your tiny little cock—”
“It was huge when you were riding it yesterday…”
“Whatever! Fuck. You. Carter.” She bumped me with her shoulder and headed toward the side door. She twisted and turned the lock a few times, pushing and pulling on the knob.