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“This will only take a minute. Come on, silly.” I turn to look at her and she smiles. “You look like someone just kicked your dog. You won Harrison. It’s supposed to be a good thing. If she won, you’d be happy for her.”
She’s right about that, but she doesn’t realize that in one day it seems February has lost more than just this competition.
I haven’t spoken to February since the competition ended a few days ago. I’m trying to give her space, but not sure how much longer I can hold out. There’s something to be said for minding your own business on your only day off. Nothing good ever comes from it. Like right now.
Hilary at my front door.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her, my mouth on the metaphorical ground.
“This place is cute,” she says, stepping right past me and making her way into my house.
I shut the door behind her, and actually study her for the first time in months. What was I thinking when I first started datingher?
Was she always so vapid?
I try to remember how we first met. The first date. And nothing compares to the time I’ve spent with February over the past few weeks. I was with Hilary for years, and I feel nothing for her.
Except annoyance.
“I asked what you were doing here, Hilary?” I cross my arms. I don’t want her to get any ideas. Like she’s welcomed to stay here any longer than need be.
She spins around to look at me, her purse swinging with her as she smiles sweetly at me. Only the sweetness is laced with toxicity because it’s not working on me. “I just wanted to see you. I miss you.”
“So, let me get this straight. You break up with me, and I leave, and you come here to tell me you miss me? Okay, great. Now, I have to get going.” I put my hand on the door handle, ready to usher her out.
Hilary saunters over to me, swaying her hips from side to side in her little shorts. Her tank top rests off one shoulder, and she’s got her big sunglasses pushed off her face, keeping her brown hair back. She’s got a can of grape soda in her hand, something she hardly goes anywhere without. Not sure why she likes that sugar bomb of a soda anyway, but I no longer care.
I just want her to leave.
“Harrison, I was thinking you’d be a little happier to see me.”
I rub a hand across my jaw. “What do you want me to say? You show up here out of the blue without so much as a phone call.”
She steps closer, and I back away as she tries to put her hand on my chest. It all happens so slowly, but I knock the hand that has the soda in it, and it dumps all down the front of my shirt.
“Jesus,” I let out as the cold beverage seeps into the material of my shirt. I move away from her and rush down the hall to get the shirt off me.
She follows. “I’m so sorry,” she calls out, heading into the kitchen as I rush upstairs to find a new shirt.
I can’t believe she’s here, and how awkward things are between us. She’s the last person I thought I’d see when I opened my front door this afternoon.
I didn’t leave Saint Pierce on the best of terms with Hilary, and I think her parting words to me were something like, “Rot in hell.”
Now she’s here, invading my space, spilling grape soda all over me.
I pull my shirt off and grab a washcloth to wipe my chest of the sticky drink. It’s a mess, just like we were together. The faster she’s on her way back to Saint Pierce, the happier I’ll be.
I toss the washcloth into the hamper and glance at myself in the mirror. A look of unhappiness shines in my eyes. A look I haven’t seen since I’ve been back, especially since I met February.
Just thinking of her brings a grin to my lips.
Once I grab a new shirt and pull it over my head, I take a deep breath. It was always like this with Hilary. I worked longer hours than necessary, stared at the ringing phone when I saw her name, and took my time getting ready. I never really thought anything of it at the time. I figured I just needed a little time to myself.
Now, though, I know differently.
When I’m working, my eyes are fixed on the door hoping to see February walk through. When my phone rings and I see her name, my heart pounds in my chest. And I’m constantly rushing to spend every minute possible with her.
I grin as I walk out of the bedroom. “Yep, I fucking love that girl.”
