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“I’m talking about dating!” I throw the towel down that I was wiping my hands on and start pacing the kitchen.
“Okay…” she says, dragging the word out, her brows drawn together. “So, you want to date other people? Why?”
“Because we aren’t together, and I think if I keep spending so much time with him, then I’ll start to believe wearetogether.”
“And? Would that be so bad?”
“Yes!”
“Fine,” she sighs, putting our trays of whoopies in the oven. “If you want to date, then date. Play the field, sex up some hotties, do whatever you want.” She shrugs. “But I’m telling you because I’m your friend…don’t expect Tyler to wait for you to realize your mistake. And don’t be mad when you see he’s moved on.”
“I wouldn’t,” I say defensively, but my gut churns at the thought of him with another woman.
“Okay…” She draws out the word again, her skepticism obvious.
∞∞∞
I spent my day avoiding all questions revolving around Tyler from both Courtney and Ally, and I’m mentally and physically tired from the task. I get that they’re my friends and they have their opinions, but I don’t want to hear them.
After hours of going back and forth with myself, and having a lengthy mental debate on the subject, I’ve decided to take a step back from whatever Tyler and I are doing. And that’s that.
I don’t want to trap him into being in a relationship with me. If I tell him I can’t do this as friends anymore, and he tells me we should try this for real, then it’ll feel like I forced him. I wouldn’t know if it was real or not, and I don’t want that.
I want him towantto be with me, not feel like he has to be if he wants to keep sleeping with me.
Although he probably has a line of women waiting for their chance with him, so I probably wouldn’t even be that great of a loss.
“You want to head to The Rusty Anchor for dinner?” Ally asks me and Courtney when we’re finished cleaning up.
“No, I’m tired, I’m just going to head home and relax,” I tell her, knowing if I go, then it’ll just be another few hours of dodging questions and avoiding the topic of Tyler.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, see you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”
Heading out, I use the ten-minute walk home to enjoy the fresh air. But when I trudge up the stairs and get inside, exhaustion takes over, and I flop down on the couch.
Sadly, I’m not even granted a minute of peace before the ringing of my phone pierces my silence.
“Hello?” I answer roughly.
“What’s wrong, baby? You sound stressed. Are you getting enough sun?”
“Mom?” I ask incredulously, realizing I answered without looking at who was calling. I haven’t talked to her since I first got here a few weeks ago, and I miss the warmth in her voice. “Hi.”
“Hi, honeybunch, how is Maine treating you?”
“It’s fine.”
“That’s not really a good answer for someone who just moved hundreds of miles for a fresh start and is back with her best friends and has a job she loves.”
“No, I’m fine,” I assure her, loving that she just simplified my entire life into a few key facts. “I’ve just had a long day and I’m tired.”
“Alright, if you say so. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright up there.”
