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The memory makes me shiver.

I pull on some shorts and turn on the coffee pot and some music. I need to get a grip, really. Reality is waiting for me, and even though it’s a Saturday, I can’t ignore it. The stack of bills sitting on my table has been waiting too long while I tried to get through this week, and the red marks on the envelopes telling me that these are the final notices give me a deep anxiety that makes my skin crawl.

Checking my back account doesn’t make me feel any better, either. I’m almost broke. So as has become my habit, I need to figure out which bill is the latest and pay that one. The rest of them will have to wait. I sigh, rubbing my temples. This kind of stuff never fails to give me a headache.

It seems like not so long ago when I didn’t have to worry about any of this. But when dad died a few years ago, everything fell apart. Most people get at least some kind of inheritance from their parents. I inherited debt. I didn’t realize that that kind of thing transferred, but there was so much, and I never knew. I haven’t even really had the chance to grieve, because ever since, I’ve been trying to keep myself afloat in this mess. And now I’m struggling under the weight of more debt than I can handle, barely making it. Let’s face it, I’m not making it. The call that woke me up was from a collection agency. They never stop calling. Ten, twelve times a day. I’ve stopped answering my phone except for people that I know. Every time my phone rings, my stomach plummets into my feet.

How did I get here?

I fight the sadness welling up in my chest, and my mind flips back to Frankie. This is the reason that, even if he’s changed, we can’t be together. I’m not who he thinks I am. Not anymore. No one wants to be with someone drowning in debt, barely holding it together. I’m drowning in my own life, how could I even begin to entangle in someone else’s?

But just for a second, I imagine what it would be like. Being with Frankie was like a dream most of the time. He was sweet and attentive and when I think back on those memories, they still make me glow with happiness. Last night he told me that he was sorry, and he should be.

There’s a reason that we broke up, and it was a good one. Curling up in my window seat with my coffee mug, I let that play through my mind again. It’s not a happy memory, but given the events of last night, I need to think about it. Because I can’t deny that for me, it’s always been Frankie. No matter who I dated, everyone was compared to him in my mind. Has he changed enough? Can I get past what we went through enough to even think about letting him back in, given the state of my life?

It was a Friday night, and we were supposed to go out. Turns out, he was already out with Glenn and Wallace, since Wallace was visiting. Not a problem. They were already at our usual bar, and they were a couple drinks ahead of me when I got there. He kissed me on the lips, a little deeper than he usually would in public, and I loved that. I never minded public displays of affection, especially since we weren’t in Green Hills where there were people waiting to gossip.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I said, biting my lip. Glancing over at Glenn and Wallace, I gave them a wave. “Hey guys.”

“Hey,” Glenn says absently, scribbling on a piece of paper.

“What are you working on there?”

Wallace and Frankie answered immediately, but one said ‘term paper’ and the other said ‘late lab report.’

“Okay,” I said. “Those are clearly lies.”

Glenn looked up from his paper and smiled smugly. “I’m making plans. My annual re-assessment of the Dirty Thirty Pledge.”

I leaned back against Frankie and enjoyed the sensation of his arm resting around my waist. “The Dirty Thirty Pledge?” I gave Glenn a look. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s our rite of passage. We came up with it junior year of high school. We all signed the paper. So when we turn thirty, all systems go.”

I looked back at Frankie. “All systems go on what?”

He shrugged, his face a mask of embarrassment. “It’s nothing.”

“Well?” I turned back to the other guys. “Is it a secret rite of passage?”

Glenn rolled his eyes. “Of course not. The pledge is to fuck thirty girls in the month after you turn thirty. These are the lists of women for each of us. We update them every year.”

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