I felt sure I had a winner on my hands when I messaged her on Wednesday evening to say I’d sent messages to both of Pansy’s exes and was waiting for them to respond.
But she didn’t say a word. Didn’t even thumbs-up the text.And she didn’t respond when I told her that I’d heard from Pansy herself yesterday.
Pansy had said she was sorry I had a stomach virus and couldn’t make it on Thursday, but she’dreallylike to get together with me soon.
I sent a screenshot of the text to Nora and asked:
Couldn’t you have told her I have whooping cough? Why’d you have to give me diarrhea?
I figured I’d get something in response to that message. A laugh emoji maybe. Or at least a simplefuck you.But no, Nora has made it clear she’s ignoring me.
Maybe what I said is unforgivable, just like the stupid things I’ve said to ruin other relationships.
Maybe there’s no fixing this, and she hates me again, only this time she’ll always hate me.
Worse: I think I fucked up so badly that Nora’s mom caught wind of my screwup, because my father has asked me to have a man-to-man talk. I managed to put him off temporarily by adopting Nora’s excuse of the stomach virus. I figured, why not be consistent?
The talk will need to happen eventually, though. We Peebles men are nothing if not persistent.
Oh well. He can hardly be more disappointed in me than I am in myself.
I take another jab at the heavy bag, needing to feel its weight against my hand. I shouldn’t be going at it this hard, not when we have another show this weekend, but I need to feel the pain.
“Someone’s pissed off tonight,” Liam says as I throw another punch, my fist aching in the glove.
I remove the gloves and then sit on the closest wooden bench and bury my head in my sweaty hands. Normally, I’d bethinking about all the germs that probably infest every surface of Bell’s. Now…well, I’m still thinking about it, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“Yeah, so I’m grabbing Mick for this,” Liam says.
I don’t bother telling him no. Liam will do as he likes, always does.
Mick is on the treadmill in the far corner, running while he watches YouTube on his phone. He loves watching conspiracy theory videos. Not because he believes them, he insists, but because “you should always make sure you’re aware of the stupid shit other people believe.”
Liam releases a piercing wolf whistle, and a few seconds later, Mick comes bounding up, sweating and jogging in place. “What the fuck? What’s up?”
“Cormac’s ready to tell us what’s on his mind.”
I shake my head, annoyed. “Something’s always on my mind. Too much is always on my mind.”
“He doesn’t sound ready,” Mick comments, bouncing between his feet. “Lemme get the scotch.”
“You want to drink scotch,now?”
His answer is to jog to the front of the gym.
“Should I call Rob and Travis to come join us?” Liam asks, his mouth lifted in a partial smile. “We can give whatever happened a big group think.”
He’s fucking with me. He knows I won’t want a bigger audience for this…whatever this is.
I don’t particularly want to tell Liam and Mick about what’s going on with Nora either. I doubt Liam’s ever had trouble winning over a woman he was seriously interested in, and Mick’s only ever been seriously interested in getting laid.
“You know I don’t,” I confirm, although I don’t try to put him off. I need to talk to someone, and I don’t feel like telling Dottie and Ann that I messed up this bad.
Mick returns with a bottle of scotch and three of the disposable paper cups he keeps by the water dispenser. He sits beside me on the bench and fills three cups to the brim, and we each take one of them.
“I really fucked up,” I announce.
“Join the club.” Mick knocks me on the back with his open palm with nearly enough power to send me off the bench.
