Page 53 of Big Dix
“Necesitas paciencia.” With that reply that I don’t understand, she grips my bicep lightly, almost in comfort, before walking away.
“Mrs. Salinas? I don’t know what that means!” I scrape my hands across my face. This is all such a damn mess. I don’t even really know what happened.
Shit.
I guess I should do what Mrs. Salinas suggested… and wait.
But fuck that shit. I’ve never been the type of man to not go after what I want and right now, the only thing I want… no, need… is Evelyn.
THIRTY-ONE
Evelyn
“Archer’s Voicewas phenomenal. I’m so glad that you picked this one, Evelyn.” Jen shuts the book, finishing up our discussion.
“I told you all that you were missing out on Mia Sheridan. She’s fantastic at writing broken characters.” Ironic, since I, too, am currently a broken character.
Stupid Atticus. Stupid heart.
He tried to call me several times the first few days after what I now refer to asThe Incident.I didn’t answer, and then, I deleted any voice mail he left without listening to it. I didn’t need to hear him say that he and his girlfriend were back together. I got to see Annie Homemaker first-hand. He sent me what I assume was some consolidation bread, and as painful as it was, I tossed it outside and let the birds eat it.
Lucky ass birds.
“Come on. Go with us.” Glory pats my leg. “Seriously. It’s been almost two weeks. You haven’t done anything besides work.”
I’ve been a sad sack ever since the night I left Atticus’s house. I’m quite pathetic.
“Not true. We’re here at Jen’s having book club. That counts. Besides, I don’t know, Glory. I think it might be too hard to see him out there playing.”
As if he didn’t crush my heart. I’m not sure I’m ready to see him even from a distance.
She offers a sad smile. “You love Atticus, don’t you?”
I haven’t admitted this little nugget of truth to anyone. I’ve barely admitted it to myself. But damn it, I do. I love the stupid asshole.
It’s time to come clean to my best friends. “Yup.”
It’s all I can muster. I’ve not ever been in love before. I hate it. I fell hard and hit bottom.
This is what I get for letting a man in. Pain. I need to remember how this feels so I don’t do it again. Stupid ass heart, stupid ass feelings. Bleh.
“Aw, honey. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting.” Glory leans in and hugs me.
I try not to cry, but against my best efforts, a tear slips down my cheek. It’s so stupid. We weren’t even technically a couple.
“I get it. I do. But we’re all going to the bowl game. It’s just not the same without you. Won’t you come? Have some fun with us?”
“Plus, free food and booze,” Jen chimes in, sitting down beside me on her couch.
I shake a finger in the air, and Glory releases her death grip hug. “That is tempting.”
“Just go with us.” Christina slides into the chair across from us, and I tilt my head back, resting it on the back of the couch, letting my eyes drift shut.
The last couple of weeks have been hard. I fell for Atticus, and he crushed me. Well, technically, his on-again-off-again girlfriend crushed me. But because of this huge stupid game, his face has been everywhere I look. On the television, online, interviews, I can’t escape his stupid beautiful face. Nor can I escape how happy he seems to be living his Evelyn-free life in each photograph or video.
I hate to say I was right, but I was right. I was a way to pass the time for him. I’m an idiot: me and my stupid hopeful heart.
That night on his farm, in the barn, I thought it meant something to both of us. How could I have gotten it all so wrong? But I can’t let him and his whereabouts dictate what I do, can I? I can’t keep wallowing in my self-pity. He sure as shit isn’t, is he?
