Can't Say Love

What have I gotten myself into?

~Liam's POV~

     The phone rang, and I rushed to pick it up.  Without looking at the caller ID I said,

      "Hello?"

      "Liam?  Is that you?"

      Kelly.  Of course it had to be Kelly.  I nodded and then realized that she couldn't see me.  "Yes.  Hey Kel."

     "Don't call me that," she stiffened.

     "Why not?"

      "Because that's not my name."

      "You didn't mind it so much when we dated."

       "Liam.  I don't want to talk about that.  I'm dating Drew now."

        "Right.  How could I forget?  You cheated on me with Drew."

       "Stop it.  You're acting like a child now."

       "Am I?"  I yelled enraged.  "Why did you call Kel-Kelly?"

      "I wanted to invite you and Daisy to dinner tomorrow night."

      "Daisy and I...  We would love to come.  Tomorrow is it?"  How would I find a red-brown haired girl with blue eyes in a day and a half?

      "Yes.  And Liam? Is...  Did you meet that way, actually?"

      Had I said what I wanted to say, I would've told her that I loved her...  Instead, I replied: "Yes.  That's exactly how it happened.  Goodbye Kel."  I hung up.  Let her get over hurting me.  I needed to find Daisy.  But what if her name wasn't Daisy?  What if I couldn't find her?

     To begin my search, I walked to the same place I had been earlier.  I had the entire day: I better start looking.  Walking into a flower shop, I thought, a girl like that wouldn't work in here.  It wasn't like me to worry a lot.  I was "Daddy Direction."  I could handle this.

     "Excuse me," I asked a waitress at a restauraunt.  "Do you know a girl named Daisy?"

     "Nope," she said uninterestedly.

     "Okay, thanks."

     After two hours of uneventful looking, I still hadn't found Daisy.  Then, I spotted a head of red-brown hair walking away from me.  Could that be her?  Running up to the girl, and tapping her on the shoulder, I hoped for the best.

     "Yes?" The girl asked, annoyed.

     "Are you...?"

     She wasn't.  I felt my hopes sink even lower.

     "I'm busy, now.  Thank you and take a number."

    "I'm looking for someone."

    "And I'm looking for a cab.  Goodbye."

    Well, that wasn't helpful.

    "Do you know someone named Daisy?" I asked a boy standing on a street corner.

     "Yeah," he replied, spitting tobacco.  "Sounds familiar.  I think I paid her twenty-five for some action a few weeks ago."

     "You paid her?" I asked, confused.

     "Yeah.  She was great."

     "What do you mean when you say that you paid her?"

      "She's a prostitute, idiot.  That's their job."