LADYBUG

Chapter 4: The Lot

Flashbacks of the previous night blurred in and out of focus. I fought to open my eyes the morning after the blind date. Images of Kayla and Eric dancing to some Dua Lipa song clogged my memory, in between brief flashes of the subtle feeling of Nick's hands in all the right places. After two bars and a couple of tall drinks, Kayla and Eric disappeared, leaving Nick and me on our own. The order of events of the previous night fell into place the longer I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. I didn't remember smiling, but when I worked my way to the bathroom my lips were curled into a grin I hadn't seen on myself since....Nevermind.

My phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, and a ripple of electricity sent sparks skirting down my spine. Nick. I lifted the phone and exhaled a sigh of relief and severe disappointment.

"So how'd it go?" the text read. For someone with a toddler at home, she spent a good deal of time invested in my sex life.

"It was good. Like REALLY good." I texted back, with my toothbrush hanging from my foamy mouth.

"OMG Liv! Are you going to see him again?" She asked. I only typed the Y and E in yes before deleting it. I'd been far too starstruck and tipsy to ask for his number last night.

"Do you have his number?" I typed out and finished brushing my teeth.

"No, he bumped into me at the cafe again, and we made plans face to face. You didn't get it last night?"

"We were busy."

"I bet! And before I forget, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIATCH!"

My phone buzzed three more times. One text from each parent, and one event reminder for dinner with Rose. Happy birthday to me. Rose left me, and I mean LEFT me, and left everyone, and vanished. Then I met an absolute dreamboat, and he was gone before the sun came up. My fucking luck. I searched the apartment up and down, flipping every pocket inside out. Where the hell was that card? I looked in vain for thirty minutes before sitting on the floor, fighting the urge to slam my head into the wall. Good job, Liv.

An hour passed before my stomach bubbled to life with an empty, hungry growl. I squeezed at the squishy fat tissue that jutted out and rolled over my belt; a reminder of the free gym membership my father granted me, that I never used. I'd exercise some other time. Right now, however, I needed sustenance, and not a salad or some new fad zero calorie food from Walmart. I needed something heavy to balance out the alcohol that still sat in my gut.

I scrolled through restaurants on my laptop, already feeling my body melt lazily into the couch. After thirty minutes of scrolling, and shoving away thoughts of Rose, and now Nick, I gave up, and decided on Chinese food, and a lot of it. One medium sized veggie fried rice, two spring rolls, crab rangoon, and Chinese donuts. I wanted a Sprite but chose water instead. There, my one healthy choice of the day.

I sat the laptop down on the couch, pulled my wallet from the counter, slipped out the red debit card, and zipped the wallet shut. "DING!" My laptop rang once behind me.

With my red Navy Federal card in hand, I returned to the couch. A Facebook notification blinked. Nick Myers has sent you a friend request. I slammed the laptop closed, like placing the lid on a hot frying pan. "No fucking way," I whispered and reached for my phone. I bit back a smile and attempted to stifle the urge to immediately accept his request. Childish? Yes. But I needed something to keep me busy today while I pretended to have more interesting things to do than sit by my phone waiting for a friend request from Nick. I'd wait and respond to it later. I wasn't that desperate.

At the pool last summer, Rose and I befriended a single mother who lived two stories beneath me, with her six year old son. Rose and I sat on the beach chairs and soaked up the bright late May sun, with freshly braided hair that neither of us wanted to get wet. A woman climbed in and out of the pool. She played with her son and a bright yellow and orange beach ball, passing it amongst themselves, back and forth, until one of them couldn't reach it before it hit the water. After a few minutes of playing with the boy, she climbed out of the water, clearly shivering, wrapped herself in a towel, and sat in the sun. She kept her eyes on the boy as he continued to play by himself, slapping the ball as hard as he could across the empty pool, then swimming after it, just to do it again.