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I honestly don't know what to do. I mean, would it be so terrible to let him go to California not knowing? He'll be so far away and busy with college and basketball and Audra and the baby. He won't have time to worry about what I'm doing with Kyle.
Ugh, I'm such a crappy friend.
If I were him, I would want to know. I guess that means I have no choice. I have to tell him.
"Soon," I promise Fallon.
"It's better to rip the band-aid off now," she wisely counsels. "We also need to talk about something else," she clears her throat, authoritatively. "Since your mom isn't talking to you, you need to get on birth control."
"My appointment is on Thursday." I raise a shoulder, proudly showing off how responsible I am.
After Kyle left, I realized he might not always have a condom conveniently hanging out in his back pocket and it's better to be safe than sorry. Even though the thought of having kids with Kyle makes me feel all gooey and mushy inside, I'm definitely not ready for that. Maybe in ten years. Or fifteen.
"Look at you," Fallon beams beside me, "fucking adulting with a job, a doctor's appointment and swallowing Kyle's jizz."
I run an embarrassed hand over my face. "I need to get back to work."
She laughs. "Are we still going lingerie shopping tomorrow?"
"Can you pick me up at 3? That's when I get off work."
Fallon nods her head. "Yes. Now, get back in there and kiss ass all afternoon!"
I stand, roll my eyes at her. "This is only temporary. Until I have something to put on a resume."
"Yeah, yeah," Fallon nonchalantly waves me off.
—
"What do you mean you don't like sushi?" I gasp into the phone. "I'm not sure I can be with someone who doesn't eat raw fish."
Kyle's chuckle is deep and raspy. "How did you not know this? I know how much you hate coffee."
I rest my elbow on the steering wheel of Danny's old truck, sigh into the phone. "Yeah, but I haven't been stalking you for the last seven years."
"Seven years, eleven months, six days, and four minutes." he rambles off.
I feel my heart pitter-patter in my chest. "Please tell me that's an estimate and you haven't been keeping track all this time."
"Of course I have," his tone is light and joking.
"Who would have guessed the brooding Kyle Thompson was the ultimate romantic?" I jest.
"Only for you," he responds. And even though I can't see his face, I can hear the honesty in his voice, the seriousness, the admission that if I were anyone else, he wouldn't have even bothered speaking the words out loud.
"I know you listen to music when you're stressed out," I say into the phone. "You're also ridiculously competitive, but you try not to show it. Oh, and you're majoring in Business Management, but, more surprisingly, minoring in Photography. Although can't say I've ever seen you with a camera in your hands."
"Impressive," he sounds genuinely surprised. "Who'd you get that information out of? My mother?"
I tut-tut him over the phone. "The first two I noticed on my own over the years. I mean, onoccasion I would pay you the slightest bit of attention. You're pretty much the hottest guy I've ever seen in my life. And the last, well, let's just say social media helped me out with that one."
"So, you're the stalker now," he teases me.
"At least I can admit to it," I scoff before bursting into a fit of giggles.
Oh my god, I'm giggling on the phone right now.
What is wrong with me?
