AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I hear you fucked my friend Lana.”
His voice perks up. “Yeah? She told you? How’d she say it was? Man, she’s insatiable. Told me I’m the best she ever had—”
“Gross, you jerk. I don’t want to hear anything about it. But I do want to point out what a massive asshole-y hypocrite you are. Giving me shit for sleeping with a friend right after you’d done the same thing?” I hiss.
“Oh hell, Ava. It’s not the same. You see, guys have this code of conduct, and it includes not fucking each others’ sisters.”
“Shut it, Andy. You are a hypocrite and you know it, not to mention a judgmental asshole.”
I’m so done with this loser, even if he is my only sibling. I don’t need the kind of shit he doles out. I can get treated like crap by people I don’t know, not those who I do and who supposedly care about me.
“But you, Ava, you have made some messed-up life choices. And you know it.”
Oh, if he were here right in front of me, I’d punch him right in his pretty nose. In fact, I have half a mind to head home for the weekend just so I can do that.
“Fuck you, Andy. My life is none of your business. I don’t need your approval or guidance, and I will sleep with whomever I want, even if they are your friends,” I say, a scrap of control seeping back into my body.
“Fine. Whatevs, Av. Just to let you know, I will be seeing Lana again. The woman is hot as shit and an animal in the sack.”
I force my jaw to relax, that’s how hard I’m gritting my teeth. “You are an idiot. Do you think she gives two shits about you? She goes through men faster than you lose clients in your little financial services business. Try to set up a date with her again. I’ll bet she doesn’t even return your call.”
He’s finally silent. Out of all the things to say, and out of all the ways to needle him, I just struck below the belt.
I may have gone too far.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I just did.
* * *
53
AVA
Just when Ithink I’m getting ahead, and that the good old universe is giving me a break, something comes back around to kick me in the teeth again.
What the hell did I ever do that was so bad?
But there’s no sense in bellyaching. I have to move forward. It’s finally Friday, the last day of the longest week of my life. Glenda told me I’m not getting fired for being a big phony, but I think she might just be holding out until she has a replacement for me. I know the woman likes me, but she doesn’t like me that much. I have to find a new profession, a new place to live, and some new friends. Well, I’m keeping Cami for obvious reasons, and I know I can’t really blame Lana for bedding my brother—it’s just what she does—but every time she brings up how good he is in bed, I end up on the verge of losing my lunch.
Not only because I don’t need to hear about my brother’s sex life, but especially because he’s such a top-notch creep.
I head home after work, or rather to Steve and Cami’s, turning down offers from various coworkers to get a cheap happy hour drink or two. I want to swing by my favorite bath shop and buy some new lotion, maybe even bubble bath, go home, and watch an old Sex and the City rerun on my tablet. I’ve seen them all a hundred times, but something about the mindlessness of the show is reassuring, not to mention how those girls bumble through life just like I do.
Settled into my green chair, I prop up my tablet on a little nightstand I’ve pulled close and dive into one of the many SATC episodes where Carrie makes a mess of yet another relationship. I put my cup of supposedly ‘calming’ tea on the floor because there’s nowhere else to put it.
After burning my lips on the first sip, I find I’m having a little trouble concentrating. I reach into my work duffel bag on the floor and pull out a pen and paper. Before I know it, I’ve writtenJasper, Ethan, Leo.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I flip the page over and go back to my show. Carrie falls into a pond in Central Park, and while I usually love that scene, even though she ruins the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen, something about it bores me.
I turn my pad back over, and like a total sap, run my fingers over the guys’ names, as if I’m actually touching them instead of paper and smudgy ink.
It doesn’t feel like them. It just makes me miss them more.
I think back to a column I wrote a few years ago, when Marie Kondo and her sparking joy crap was all the rage. I asked my readers if the men in their lives were really adding to their happiness, to their joy, and advised them if not, it might be time to do the old ‘swipe left,’ to use the old online dating jargon. Declutter, as it were.
Had I swiped left too fast with regard to Jasper, Ethan, and Leo without really, I meanreally, thinking about it?
