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Logan’s text to ensure I’d made it home okay pulled me even deeper into my hole of hatred. I spill my guts to Izabeth after Rainey falls asleep. As a true best friend, she’s ready to talk shit and tells me to banish this man from my mind, because he obviously doesn’t deserve me.
“Wait. Is this the library guy?” I can hear Iz’s mind working.
Tagging along with Iz and her cousins to the library back-to-school led to many questions. Who’s the guy I was stared at? How did I know him? Am I sleeping with him? My innocent answers didn’t provide the drama she thought she’d receive, so she’s continued to ask nearly every time we talk if I’ve seen ‘the library guy’ again.
The feeling of betrayal clings to every breath as I rant and rave, and Iz listens. She waits for me to exhale and give her a chance to squeeze a word in.
“What are youreallymad about?”
I pull my phone away from my ear, double checking I didn’t hit mute with my ear while moving around. I clearly spelled out why I was angry. Was she not listening?
“I thought we were becoming friends, but clearly not.”
“Noah, this reaction doesn’t feel like you’re just upset about losing a friend. One you’ve only known what . . . Two weeks?”
“Threeweeks,” I correct her.
“Ok, three weeks.” There’s a hesitation in her voice. “I’m going to throw this out there. You can be pissed, or you can think about it and decide if it’s true.”
Here we go—Izabeth knows too well, and she’ll dig until she understands what’s really bothering me.
“You don’t care about losing a friend, probably an acquaintance, at best, that you’ve known less than a month.”
“Wh-what? I just told you I cared. I’m fucking angry, Izabeth.”
“That’s what you keep saying, but I don’t hear anger. What I hear is you’re upset because youfeltsomething.”
“Felt something? You’re insane. You think I’m in love with Logan?”
“I never said you werein lovewith him. I said I think you’re feelingsomething. You felt something or I’m crazy, and I’m not crazy.”
Iz isn’t totally off base, just mostly. My mind drifts to sadness as I put her on speakerphone and slide my ass down the wall in my bedroom to rest on the floor. Did I feel something? Of course. Logan’s easy on the eyes, fun to talk with, and seemed like a nice guy. But I wasn’t in love with him—not even close.
After a long stretch of silence, I reply, “I don’t know, Iz. Do I think Logan’s hot? Absolutely, but he’s not my type. Do I think he’s charming and a great conversationalist? Yes. But do I have feelings for Logan? I don’t think so. The only feelings I have are hatred for an asshole who lied to me. Helied.” I dam up the words spewing from my mouth long enough to catch my breath. “Did he think—do you think he thought we would—“
“I don’t know what he thought,” Izabeth interjects. “I’ve never met him. His daughter mentioned her mom . . . but did he tell you he’s married?”
“No.”
“Have you considered he could be separated or divorced?”
“No.”
“Is it possible you’ve overreacted?”
“Maybe.”
“Here’s the last thing I’ll say: If there are no feelings there, move on and focus on Rae. But if there’s any chance you see a connection forming, even a small one, it’s worth hearing what he has to say. At least you’ll know.”
My bond with Iz is strong and there’s never any sugarcoating the truth in fear of hurt feelings. She’s told me countless times it’s one of my best attributes. Today I’m getting a dose of my medicine.
“We good?” she asks.
“Of course. You’re stuck with me for life.” I grin through the phone. “You still coming to help me clean tomorrow?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope. See you bright and early.”
