Page 2 of Burn the Script

When we were young, our parents dressed us in matching outfits for yearbook and family photos, which I secretly enjoyed. In some pictures, the resemblance is so striking, only my sharper nose and deep dimples set us apart.

Our similarities end with our looks, however, because our personalities couldn’t be more different. While I’ve been called uptight and aloof, Carmen is hailed as a free spirit. She’s also messy, pushy, and irresponsible with her money, and I love her to death.

“How was your date this morning?” she asks. When I shoot her a withering look, she stomps a foot. “You’re not even trying, Miguel.”

“I went, didn’t I?”

Dropping onto the chaise end of the cream chenille sofa, I kick my feet up. My tiny, one-bedroom apartment has an open concept with a combined kitchen, living, and dining area where I set up my laptop when I work from home. Moving back to the Silver Lake neighborhood, near downtown Los Angeles, seemed like the best decision after my breakup last January. Carmen begged me to be her roommate again, but I needed to live on my own for the first time. We settled on being neighbors instead.

She shuts off the music on her phone. Her hair is so long, she has to gather it over a shoulder before sitting next to me, tucked in a ball with her toes touching my thigh. Few people have a free cuddle pass, and she’s one of them.

“Was the date really that bad?”

“I’m alive, and I’d like to keep it that way.” My head lolls to the side, and I meet her concerned gaze. “I’m deleting the app.”

“Please don’t. It can’t hurt to browse, right? You could find a cute distraction, someone to keep your mind off things.”

“I’m not built for casual dating. Never have been. I’m not made for relationships or hookups either.”

More importantly, I’m not interested in any of those things, a fact I’ve reiterated to her many times.

“No one is saying you have to jump into a relationship or hook up with anyone. The app can help you meet people and make new friends. Get out of your apartment and embrace the unexpected.”

I flick a dismissive hand. “Pass. The last time I got adventurous, it didn’t end well. I’m happy with my comfortable existence as a bachelor.”

Carmen and I have gone round and round about my future. She thinks thirty-four is too young to abandon the quest for love and become a lonely, old curmudgeon. I disagree. After holding the perfect man in my grasp for years, I learned that even profound love couldn’t conquer the mental baggage I bring to a relationship. For both our sakes, I walked away.

“Your comfort zone can become a prison if you never leave it.” She gives my arm a rough shake. “Take more risks, Miguel.”

“I take risks.”

“Some, but you run scared as soon as you get close to earning the rewards.” As I open my mouth to argue, she cuts me off. “You know I’m right.”

I tug at the knot in my bow tie, breathing easier once it loosens. During my attempts to revive a lost fashion trend, the bow tie became my trademark accessory. Modernized versions of kilts and lederhosen failed to gain traction on social media, but with the little scrap of fabric hanging from my neck, I’ve found success. Every week, I risk my pride when posting a video of my sewing skills for three-hundred followers to admire.

I look at my sewing table in the corner with longing. If Carmen weren’t here, I’d skip dinner and lose myself in stitch therapy and dreams of the future I abandoned.

She knows me well enough to read my thoughts and nudges me with her foot. “Call him.”

“No.”

“Then talk about him. You’ll never get over him if you can’t even say his name.”

“No,” I repeat, gritting my teeth. I’ve banned all discussion about my ex, but she enjoys breaking my rules.

A knock on the door saves me from a second undesirable conversation today. She smacks a noisy kiss on my cheek and bounds toward the food delivery, her carefree demeanor front and center once again. Meanwhile, I bury my fingers in my eye sockets to fend off regret and the last memory I have of Graham Kingston.

It’s been almost a year since I ended our relationship and blocked all means of communication. He was temptation personified, and a clean break prevented me from racing to his house and begging for forgiveness. My no-contact approach has been harder in practice than in theory. Four years is a long time to invest in someone only to sever ties abruptly.

Most days, I’m convinced I made the right choice. Graham would’ve ended things first once he realized he’d fallen in love with a total mess. Most days, I know I’m lying to myself.

2

GRAHAM

NOW

Thursday, December 29th