“You have to leave through the front door,” I said, without moving. “New locks, remember?”
“Oh, yeah…I totally forgot about that. Did I ever tell you that I liked the new locks you picked?” She moved to the front door and opened it, looking over her shoulder. “I liked them a lot, very artsy and unique. How much did you pay for them again?”
I gave her a blank stare.
“Well then…” she said, snapping back into pissed off mode.” Goodbye, Carter James…And FUCK YOU AGAIN…With something rough and sand-papery!”
The inevitable door slam came right after.
I walked into my room to see if she’d damaged anything, to see if she’d tried to leave a revenge mark somewhere, and she had. Pictures that were once hanging on my wall—the only ones I had of my parents, were lying all over the floor. She’d even somehow managed to open all my desk drawers and throw everything out without making too much noise.
Why do I continue to do this to myself?
Annoyed, yet relieved that I’d be spending tonight alone, I returned everything to its rightful place—hanging the pictures back up first.
When I finished tossing all of the pencils and pens back into the drawer, I heard my phone ringing in my pocket. Arizona, again.
“Yes?” I held it up to my ear. “Do I need to explain how sex works to you? I know it’s been awhile in your world, but it really isn’t that difficult…”
“Scott dumped me!”
“What?”
“HE. DUMPED. ME!” She huffed. “But you know what? I’ll call and tell you about it tomorrow after I calm down. I don’t want Emily accusing you of having phone sex with me.”
“Emily actually just left.” I searched for my car keys. “We can talk.”
“Oh my god, let me tell you then!” Her coherent speech ended right there. Whenever she was discussing a breakup, there was an endless tirade of cursing and “What a goddamn asshole,” “He didn’t deserve me!” “He’s going to miss me!” woes before she ever started to sound intelligible.
“Ari…” I said after she called him a dickhead for the umpteenth time. “Just tell me what happened.”
“Right…” She took a deep breath. “He came back with the condoms, and we were suddenly half naked, kissing, and we were close to going there—so close…But, those weird vibes came back, so I told him to stop and that I wasn’t ready. I said I needed a little more time to make sure I was doing the right thing. Then I said, ‘Besides, Carter thinks that I should—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” I stopped, finally locating my car keys. “You brought me up?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I told him what you said about me being one hundred percent sure before I slept with someone. Then he said, ‘Okay, that’s it. We’re over. Get the hell out.’”
“He did not tell you to get the hell out, Ari. You’re exaggerating.”
“He did!” She sounded livid all over again. “As a matter of fact, when I was walking out, he said that since I always have to go ask for your advice about everything, that I should just go and fuck you.”
Silence.
At the same time, we both burst into hysterical laughter.
“No offense,” I said, still laughing. “But I would never fuck you, let alone put up with you in a relationship.”
“You mean, I would never put up with you. Not only are you the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, you’re also not my type.”
“Clearly.” I opened the ‘track-current-caller’ app on my phone. “Exceptionally sexy, muscular in all the right places, and the ability to make any woman want to sleep with me after a first date are somehow all unfortunate qualities in your mind.”
“Seriously? Are you listening to yourself right now?” She scoffed. “Please. For the record, my qualities are far better and weed out the one-track minded men like yourself: Smart, witty, and talented with something other than my tongue.”
“You left out your best quality.”
“Which one?”
“The permanent ‘not interested in fucking’ label etched onto your forehead.”
She laughed, and I heard a light knock at the door.
“Hold on a second.” I held the phone to my chest and walked to the front door, hoping it wasn’t Emily.
It wasn’t.
It was Ari, puffy red eyes and all.
“Can I spend the night on your couch since Emily left?” she asked, stepping inside. “It doesn’t make sense for me to go all the way back home at this hour, and I’m sort of offended that you didn’t at least offer me a ride since I clearly said Scott kicked me out. You know his apartment isn’t that far from here.”
“I was actually getting ready to come get you.” I ended our call.
“Sure you were.” Her eyes veered to my arm. “You got another tattoo?” She touched my sleeve, tracing the latest addition—another branch of Latin phrases on my overgrown cypress tree. “When was this?”