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“I didn’t catch her name. I was calling her Skull girl in my head.” I shake my head, hoping the memories will go away; never again, my friend.
“Not her, although that’s rude. Not very gentlemanly of you not to know her name before sticking your peepee in her veevee.” My best friend makes a frowny face, and I need to remind myself one day this might be funny, so I don’t punch him in the face.
“Super cute.” Rolling my eyes.
“The girl, the postcards, why is she special?” Living in close quarters with someone for three years makes you see patterns.
“Ah, man, you had to go there. When I was just starting to like you for minding your own business.” I smile and stay quiet; I haven’t told him anything. I didn’t know if I should, but I wake up and still want her every day. I worried if I said it out loud the next day, I would finally get over her. But it’s been years, and I still am longing for Phoebe.
“You don’t have to tell me. I was just curious is all. Been curious since basic training graduation.”
“You saw her?” I turn to him because I have gone over my memory of the day, and I think I made her up. Everything feels unresolved, like there wasn’t an ending to us, just a pause.
“Saw who?” But he grins, and I know I’ve been caught in a trap.
The weekly calls from my mom are friendly; at the end of every call, my dad is in the background, and my mother tells me he says he is proud of you. I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear those words. But now, it doesn’t feel good; it holds an empty meaning for me.
“Phoebe, her name is Phoebe. She is a travel photographer.” The basics, stick with the basics.
“That’s crazy. There is this famous chick; I think the girl is Japanese, her last name is Yoshimoto or something.” Oh great, this is going to be great. He knows of her.
“Yoshioka.”
“Her name is also named Phoebe and a travel photographer.” Connors thinks it is a funny coincidence, but I don’t think it is funny.
“Yep, that’s her.” I lean forward and clench my hands together.
“What? No, this girl is super famous. My mom has her pictures in our cabin. Loves her photographs; I heard one sold at a charity auction for like half a million one time.”
“It was six hundred twenty-three thousand to be exact,” I remember Phoebe showing me the number; her face morphed into disgust. She said people had too much money.
Connors’ mouth falls open as he realizes we are talking about the same person. I don’t expect him to cheer me on, but I also don’t expect a punch to the face.
“Ouch! Connors! What the fuck, man?” I stand up, and we’ve tussled a few times. It doesn’t hurt badly; I just want to make him feel worse.
“You’re an asshole. Oh my gosh, my best friend is an asshole.” He pulls at his blond hair. “I’ve been lied to by an asshole.” Connors is standing up and pacing back and forth. “This whole time? Are you kidding me? It was you!” He points a finger in my face, and I have an impulse to snap it backward and break it off.
“Is there a reason you are pissed at me?” I touch my cheek it’s going to bruise, but it isn’t a big deal.
Babes love battle wounds.
“You broke her heart.” The finger in my face won’t go away.
“What? No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, yes you did, Kenzo.” Connors is nodding like a mama finding out her son lied.
“No, I didn’t, Connors.”
“Yes, you did, motherfucker.”
“Take it back!” I wrap my arm around his neck, tightening the headlock.
Connors jabs me in the side, and I only let go because the second shot hits hard.
“I’ll prove it to you!” Connors pulls out his phone, looks up Phoebe’s Instagram, and goes to a specific picture with nothing but a black screen.
“What is this? I don’t see anything.” Taking the phone from his hands, I try to see if there is anything I am missing.
