Page 145 of Down Bad

I pry myself off Diego’s porch, stop in the grass, and look up at the dark window one last time.

I think he really did leave.

“Don’t worry,” Lance says when we’re inside and he’s pulling out one thing after another from the doggy bag. “Don’t worry. I’m not here with pearls of wisdom or advice or even encouragement. You know me well enough to know I’m bad at all those things. I’m just here to feed you and get away from my needy boyfriend.” He makes a face at me. “I love Chad, but he is so needy lately. Must be tough for him, having such a talented boyfriend whose designs are always in demand. Eat this, it’s a billion calories but worth it.”

We bring the food to my couch and eat our dignified meal of steak and potatoes plus three gravy-lathered sides hunched over the coffee table with the TV on. Lance keeps laughing at whatever it is. I can’t absorb any of it. I have no appetite either, yet here I am, slowly bringing bite after bite to my mouth somehow.

“He didn’t even say goodbye.”

I think Lance was in the middle of saying something. He stops chewing and looks at me. “Did you expect him to?”

I consider it. Shrug. Then go for another bite.

“He obviously cares about you,” says Lance. “He just shows it by … setting fire to everything. But that apparently includes your enemies, too, so at least there’s an upside …”

“He won’t pick up the phone, either. I can’t bear to text him. I’m probably blocked for all I know.”

“I doubt that.”

“You don’t know him, Lance.”

“I knew him a teeny bit. And from the way he took care of you at the Ball?” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t seem like the blocking type. Maybe gets stuck in his feels. Needs time to sort things out.”

“But he doesn’t have time. The house is sold. He’s …” I let out a jagged sigh I pray isn’t a sign of pending tears. “He’s already gone.”

Lance turns to me and, like reading some lame quote from a relationship column, says, “If he truly loves you, he’ll come back.”

I snort. “Oh, great. Then I’m definitely shit outta luck.” I give up on dinner and fall back against the couch.

Lance falls back too, joining me. “You don’t know that.”

“I most certainly do.”

“Love has a thousand weird forms.”

“Spare me.”

“Chad threw a lasso around my ankles and took me straight to the ground. I made him wear a hot pink jockstrap to a party.” He eyes me. “I know what I’m talking about when I say love is weird.”

“But you and Chad were practically fated. Hated each other in high school. Fell in love at your high school reunion. Diego and I … we’re just two people who rub each other the wrong way.”

“You certainly rub each other some way,” he mumbles.

“Why didn’t I stop him from leaving the bar?”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t torture yourself over this. Just give yourself time. Let him have the space he needs. Even if it’s … way more space than you want to give him. You’ll never be alone. You’ve got me and the guys. You’ve got your gals, too. And you’ve got …” He gestures at the TV. “… whatever the fuck this is.”

I sigh. “Thank you for the meal. I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t you dare.” He pats my leg, then sits back up to resume eating. After a moment, I do, too.

Sometime later, after cleaning up and putting away the half of a steak I couldn’t finish, we relocate to my bedroom because Lance is suddenly obsessed with looking at old yearbooks since he kept none of his. We laugh at how we looked back then. He had longer hair that curled at his shoulders he only halfway misses. I was so skinny and scrawny looking, this being way before I decided to put some time into a gym in my twenties. After I take a quick trip to the bathroom, I come back to find Lance having fallen asleep on my bed, face pressed to the wrestling team photo in the yearbook.

I cover him with a blanket and turn off the light.

He snores, by the way.

In the kitchen, I sit alone with my phone, no closer to having any answers. Two more tries, Diego’s phone still goes straight to voicemail. After toiling over what to say, I finally decide to send the only text I can think of to get his attention.