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Undersold(34)

By:B. B. Hamel


I am actually, what’s up?

I know this is a little weird and random, but can I stop by? I need to talk to you.

He had been to my apartment once awhile back when he walked me home after working late. He hadn’t been back since, or even mentioned he remembered where I lived, let alone wanted to come visit. It was a little strange, and definitely out of the blue, but I had some time to kill, and it would be nice to see him.

Sure, I’ll be here for an hour or two. Stop by whenever.

See you soon then.

I had no clue what this was about, but I was too lost in Shane to think much about it. I assumed it had to go with the café; maybe he wanted me to pick up weekend shifts or something. The issue with Shane was much more pressing, though, and it consumed me. I didn’t want to snoop or come on too strong, so I seemed to let the issue drop completely, and he hadn’t picked it back up since. But what was this dark secret he was keeping from me? What could be so bad that he was embarrassed to tell me about it? Hundreds of things spun through my mind, from a murder to time in a cult to weird sexual fetishes I didn’t know about yet. I was hoping for the fetishes; at least that could be fun. Definitely no murders and cults, I hoped. Maybe he had children with another woman, or an ex-wife hidden away somewhere. Or, maybe he had another real name, and the fake identities continued on forever. I kept packing and daydreaming, and by the time I was done, the bell to my building rang.

I had forgotten about Jim as my mind wandered over the possibilities. I buzzed him into the building, and a minute later he knocked on my apartment door.

“Hey Jim,” I said, glad to see him.

He looked terrible. He was in his usual tight jeans and converse sneakers with a random band t-shirt, but he looked tired and worn out. His hair was shaggy and hadn’t been cut since I last saw him, and there were bags under his eyes. He still looked cute in his boyish way, but there was something behind his gaze, something worn out and older.

He stood at my apartment’s threshold, and looked uncertain. “Hi Amy, mind if I come in?”

“Sure, of course.” I moved inside and he followed me. I was suddenly very aware of my messy apartment. Clothes were left everywhere, and dirty dishes were left in the sink. Gross, I thought, when I realized they were a few days old.

“Sorry for the mess,” I said, embarrassed. He laughed.

“It’s about what I expected, based on your cleaning abilities from Swirl.”

“Hey, I was your best employee.” I laughed, and remembered the few nights I refused to clean the toilets.

“Oh, more like third or fourth best. You were decent. Maybe top ten,” he said, teasing. We moved over to the couch and sat down together.

“Please, that place is barely standing without me.”

He laughed. “We’re managing to limp by without you.”

It felt nice being around him again. We had always been comfortable, and I missed talking about our lives together. He was one of the few people I told everything to, back before I sold the app and met Shane.

“So how are things, seriously?” I asked.

“Things are decent at Swirl.”

“No, I mean with you. How’s the band?”

He shrugged. “We had a gig on Saturday, went pretty well. Andy is still being a dick, George is George, and Tom has been MIA since Sunday. All in all, pretty typical shit from those guys.”

“I hate to say it, but I think you’re the most stable one of the group.”

“I know, it’s amazing. I never dreamed I’d be the normal one.”

We both laughed. His bandmates were notoriously insane guys. None of them were bad people, but they were wanderers and partyers. Their music was good, but they hardly ever practiced because most of them were too busy picking up girls at shows or going on weeklong benders. Jim was the only one working a full time job and supporting himself. The others were either living off of part time gigs, a girlfriend, or the charity of strangers. Or, in George’s case, his mom.

We fell into a moment of comfortable silence. I could tell there was something going on, but I knew Jim well enough not to press. He would come out and say it eventually.

“So, I wanted to tell you something, Amy.” He looked at me and his expression was serious. I wasn’t used to serious Jim, but there was something older about it, something more self assured and mature. He looked less boyish, and more like the man I imagined he would become.

“Alright, what’s going on? Is your family okay?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Just spit it out, you’re making me nervous.”

“It’s just that, well, Swirl hasn’t been the same without you. I’ve really missed you.” He looked away from me.