Chapter 19
“Can’t you do that somewhere else?” I ask Abigail as I wave my hand in front of my face, hoping to spread the stink of chemicals away from me.
She looks over at me, her lip curled in a classic little sister scowl. “No.” She goes back to painting her nails, the bottles of nail polish reeking up here at the front counter at work.
“That stuff stinks, and it’s rude to the customers,” I say, knowing my complaining is falling on deaf ears. Abigail paints her nails all the time, so it’s not like I really care. I’m just easy to piss off lately. Every little thing annoys me, and I know why, I’m just embarrassed to admit it, even to myself.
It’s been two days since I last emailed Bess, asking her to go to the party at the Barn with me. She hasn’t replied yet, and each hour that passes without a new message in my inbox is driving me more and more insane. I tried being cool about it, but that’s just not working.
Now every little thing is annoying me, especially the email updates from our fantasy football league. Every email that isn’t from Bess is just a stupid false hope. A blinking light on my phone that leads to nothing.
For all I know, Bess was already planning on going to the party, maybe even with someone else. Someone who isn’t me. Would she give me the courtesy of telling me, or will I show up at the barn all by myself and walk right into her making out with some other guy?
My hands ball into fists and I have to shake myself to clear the thought. Standing behind the counter is only making me crazier, so I walk around the store, looking for things to organize or straighten.
Ashley Warren was my first real girlfriend back in seventh grade. I remember thinking we were all grown up and shit, but in reality, we were just kids. We only kissed twice, and back then I’d thought those kisses were something to be proud of. Something that made me a man. We lasted until the start of eighth grade when she told me she just wanted to be friends. It was as if she’d rehearsed her breakup speech all night before she told it to me, which she probably did. I was crushed, and even more hurt when she had a new boyfriend the next day. Some ninth grade prick named Jamal.
But the pain didn’t last long, because soon Mindy and her friends were flirting with me in science class, and sitting next to me during lunch. Back then Mindy was still popular, but since we were younger, the popularity wasn’t necessarily the weapon it is now.
A week after Ashley dumped me, I had three girls vying for my attention and my biggest problem was choosing which one to date. I asked Dominique to be my girlfriend at the eighth grade winter formal, in what I’d thought was super romantic at the time. I asked her to dance and then slipped her a rose that had a note tied to it, asking her if she’d go out with me.
Now, I cringe at the thought of doing something so cheesy. But damn if eighth grade me didn’t think it was the greatest thing ever. Plus, I got the girl in the end, so it worked out.
And then of course, she dumped me a year later.
Things with Elise were different. I was older, and she was really into me. She always told me how lucky she was to be my girlfriend and that sort of gave me a big ego about it. I guess maybe that’s where the downfall happened. I’d been pumped up into thinking we’d last forever because Elise constantly told me how great I was. And then one day she was gone. Apparently, the guy who can’t take off her bra smoothly was some guy in college at Texas A&M who was better than me, because that’s why she ended our relationship.
As I straighten a shelf of board shorts, I think back over all of these relationships and how they all crashed and burned in the end. Last year, I’d sworn to remain single for a very long time. That was all going really well until I hit a girl with a football and she seems to fit every item on my list.
I probably should have included another item on the list: a girl that actually likes me back.
I snort out a laugh and Abigail gives me a weird look. There’s no customers in here at the moment, so I can do whatever I want. I stick out my tongue at her and keep scouting the store for things to take my mind off Bess.
It feels like such a jackass thing to say, that I’ve never had to work for a girl before, but that’s exactly it. Girls have always seemed happy to have my attention. Bess couldn’t care less when I talk to her, and that’s only encouraging me to become the type of guy shewouldcare about.
At least she replied to my emails at first. That’s a good sign.
Grinning, I pull out my phone and shoot her another email. If I want this girl, I’ll have to work for her. And that’s fine by me.
To: BessNavarre
From: TheFlyingJosh
Hey there, me again. It’s cool if you don’t want to go to the barn, although a part of me is still holding out hope that you will. And that you’ll want to go with me. What can I say, you’re ridiculously adorable and I want to get to know you. Please, tell me to fuck off if you want and I’ll leave you alone. But, until you do, I’m gonna keep trying, okay?
The inside of my lip starts bleeding from how hard I’m biting it, but I swallow my pride and send the email. It’s so much easier to be that straightforward through text than in person. Maybe this time she’ll reply.
Later, a girl walks into the store, her eyes looking determined as she gazes around the shop. My heart temporarily leaps into my chest until I realize the shock of blond hair doesn’t belong to Bess.
The girl’s eyes lock onto mine and her lips curve upward. There’s a sway to her hips as she saunters toward me, smelling of some kind of fruity perfume.
She’s short, so she peers up at me through her bangs, stopping when she’s just a few inches away. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen her before, but she’s acting like she knows me.
“Are you Josh?” she says, batting her eyelashes up at me.
“Yes, can I help you?”
“Youcanhelp me, Josh,” she says, her voice still weirdly sweet. She blinks, her smile growing bigger. “You can help me by standing right there, okay?”
