mr. badboy

Part 40

The love of my life, the love that ruined me, is admitting she was wrong, is asking for a second chance.

And now.

Now of all times.

Bloody fucking hell.

I drop the phone, my head swimming, trying to process it all, trying to think.

It's enough to make kings and vagabonds believe the very best.

Fucking song.

I think I'm going to need to add a little something to my coffee.

I'm about to get up and rummage through my rapidly-depleting liquor cabinet when the phone starts to ring.

Shit. Don't tell me she's calling me too.

I cautiously pick it up and see Amanda's name flashing across the screen.

Seriously? She never calls me, I'm always calling her.

"Hello?" I answer urgently.

"Hey," she says, sounding small and far away.

"You never call."

"I know."

"How are you feeling? After last night. Did you guys stay long? Did you go somewhere else? Did you have fun?" I'm totally rambling here like a runaway train.

She laughs. "You goof. Of course I had fun. I'm good. I just went home after." She pauses and it's obvious there's something on her mind.

"So..."

"Blake, uh, I'm not sure if this is appropriate or not but my friend from high school, Sarah Price, she invited me to her engagement party tonight. I just saw her back when, well, months ago, and now she's with some guy and anyway, I was wondering if you would go with me."

Oh. Oh. Not at all what I was expecting.

"Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know," she says quietly. "Maybe it's weird."

"Hey, you ask me to do something, I'll do it."

Please don't think something like this is weird.

"Do you still have that suit you wore for the cover?"

"Of course. I'll wear it." I pause. "Are you going to wear your hair down?"

"I'm not fucking Rapunzel," she scoffs. "Anyway, uh...do you mind picking me up? Maybe around seven?"

"You don't want to do some writing today?"

She lets out a dry laugh. "I'm going to a party where all my old high school friends will be. I need a dress, badly. Something to make them look twice."

"Now I see why you need me," I joke.

"Well, that's part of it."

"I'm flattered."

"When aren't you? See you at seven?"

"See you."

I hang up and stare at the phone, going back to Rachel's email and reading it over again.

***

At seven I'm knocking on Amanda's door and swatting at a moth that's taken a liking to my face. I have to admit, I'm actually nervous. I feel like I'm taking a date to the prom or something and my palms are getting sweaty, I have to keep wiping them on my pants.