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Undersold(30)

By:B. B. Hamel


But the truth was, I knew I wasn’t going to do any of that. I knew I was going to grit my teeth, drink my drinks, maybe dance a bit, and try to have fun. I couldn’t violate Shane’s trust, and I couldn’t sleep with anyone else. I was his, as much as I didn’t want to be right then.

Mind firmly made up, I spent the next two hours dancing with Darcy. A few guys hit on us, but she picked up that I wasn’t interested in anyone right now, and smoothly got rid of them. Despite myself, I was having fun, and Shane Green slipped into the back of my mind, instead of being in the constant spotlight. The sticky flood of watery drinks, strangers sweating, and cheap wood benches became the center of my world, as Darcy and I worked to forget whatever troubles we were having. The drinks continued to flow, and the room grew fuzzier but better, and I felt my self-doubt and fear recede.

Around midnight, my phone vibrated. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Shane’s name on the ID.

Amy, I’m sorry I disappeared. I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m conflicted. I feel like I’ve given away parts of myself I promised I never would. But I gave them to you, I took the risk of opening myself, and after thinking about you constantly, I can’t let it go. I feel like every nerve of my body is firing when I think about your face and your lips and your hair. I know I’ve been an asshole. I want to talk to you.

I think I stared at his message for ten minutes, uncomprehending. It was a combination of alcohol and shock that kept me from responding right away. Eventually, Darcy dragged me outside.

“What’s going on, Amy? You keep staring at your phone.” The line to the bar was thinning out, but drunken groups of people stood around smoking or walking in every direction. Somewhere in this city, the man I wanted more than anyone else was waiting for my response, and I had no idea what that response would be.

“I got a message. Something I didn’t expect,” I said, trying to be vague.

“What’s it say?” She went to grab my phone.

Normally, I would have let her see it. She would be the perfect person to bounce my ideas off of, but I knew I couldn’t do that, not at this point. I pulled it away as fast as I could and shoved it into my bag. Her expression was pure surprise.

“Amy, what’s going on? You’ve been so weird lately. You’re obviously hiding something from me.” I knew she was right, but how could I explain?

“I know Darc, I’m so sorry. Look, I promise I’ll tell you what this is all about eventually. I just need to get home and process this right now, okay?”

She was quiet for a second. “That’s fine. But if you’re going to be all weird and mysterious and make me go home early, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

I laughed. Normally we’d share the bed, but if that was my punishment, then so be it.

“Alright, fine. Bed to yourself tonight.”

She grinned big. “Deal. Now let’s get a cab back to your shitty apartment.”





17.


I miss you.

That was all I could think to send back. Darcy snored in my bedroom, and I laid out on my tiny couch in sweats, wrapped in an old blanket. My stomach was in knots waiting for his reply.

I miss you too. Can we meet tomorrow?

I wanted to, I was positive about that at least. I was angry, I was hurt, but I also wanted to know why he had disappeared. I needed to know if it was my fault, and if he could forgive me for breaking his rules.

Yes, we can. I want to see you. I really want to see you.

I’ll send a car for you in the morning. Does 10 work?

Let’s make it later, around 2, if that’s OK. My friend is here visiting and we have breakfast plans.

I’ll see you then.

I scrolled through my pictures and pulled up the first one he sent me. It felt like forever ago, when he was still the mysterious stranger I met online. I looked at the clean lines of his form, the way his body flowed perfectly into itself, and I couldn’t help but remember him deep inside of me, whispering into my ear.

I fell asleep with my phone in hand, dreaming of what he’d say.

The next morning, Darcy and I went out to brunch at a local place called Honey’s. The food was always good, but it was packed. We didn’t talk much; Darcy was hungover, and I was brooding about my date with Shane.

“So any more info on your mysterious freakout last night?” Darcy asked through a mouth full of French toast.

“It was not a freakout.” I stabbed at my pancakes.

“It was totally a freakout, but whatever. I’m not upset about it.”

“Sorry. I still can’t talk about it, but I will eventually.”

Her faced turned serious. “I know, kiddo. I understand. I just hope you’re not doing something stupid.”