Anna steals a kiss from an unsuspecting Joe and runs away. He catches her soon and makes her pay. Read how the hopelessly romantic Anna and the strictly casual Joe try to get along.
"Are you going to wear it or stab someone with it?" I ask Marge as she's trying a pair of ridiculously pointy shoes. "The sharper it is, the sexier," she says. The heels barely cover her feet, just like the dress she's trying on that barely covers her body: a weird purple colored spandex looking dress. A towel would give her more coverage.
"You look like a prostitute," Lizzie says. I shake my head. "No. Even prostitutes don't look like that. She looks like she ran out of a kinky session with a guy from a cheap motel room."
Marge pushes up her breasts. "Kinky is the exact look I'm going for," she says, admiring herself in the mirror. "If I get this right I might really end up in a cheap motel with Devon." Last month she met a college guy in her cousin's wedding. They've been to two dates now. She wants to sleep with him on her next one.
We spend two hours buying her an outfit that can fit into a sling bag. After paying, we leave the shop. That's when I see him. I almost didn't notice him at first — Charlie, Ruth's fiancé. He's sitting in front of a coffee shop with a woman. She holds his hand, and they kiss.
"What are you looking at?" Marge asks. "The guy in the grey coat, kissing, in front of the coffee shop. He's Charlie, Ruth's fiancé," I say. My friends look at him. "Uh. Oh. The woman he's kissing is not Ruth," Lizzie says. Exactly. "What should I do?" I ask. "Nothing. Let's leave," Marge says.
It's not my place to confront Charlie or tell Ruth, but I feel bad for her.
We get in the elevator to go down when a hand stops the elevator door from closing. "Can I talk to you?" Charlie says. I tell my friends I'll meet them below before getting off.
He says, "About what you saw, she's just—" I stop him. "You don't have to explain anything to me," I say. He nods. "Thanks. I know you're really not dating Joe or is close with Ruth, but I had to be sure you'll keep it between us." I nod. He thanks again and leaves. I feel like a shitty fake girlfriend.
I often help close up one of my parents' shop in the weekend. I lock the door, pull it to check if it's locked and put the key in my bag. When I step down from the pavement, I see Mason waiting by his Kawasaki bike. "Are you stalking me now?" I ask him. He comes to me. "You won't return my calls," he says.
"You need to stop trying to contact me. We're over, Mason."
"I miss you," he says. Just that one sentence makes my walls disappear, making me feel vulnerable against him. "Does your girlfriend know you miss me?" I ask him. "She's not my girlfriend, Anna. I told you, I was never serious about her."
"Were you serious about me?"
"I loved you, Anna. I still do."
"Then why did you sleep with her? And worse, you told me I was to blame for it!" I say as my eyes tear up.
"I am sorry, Anna," he says coming closer and closer to me. "I really am. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have hurt you like that. I was upset you wouldn't trust me enough to have sex with me. It made me feel like I wasn't good enough for you. But that's no excuse. What I did was cruel, and I know you won't forgive me that easily, but please don't push me away. I can't be without you," he says before taking me in his arms and kissing me.
As tears slip down my cheeks I take in this moment. His woody scent, rough lips, and the cold feeling of the leather jacket he's wearing transport me back to the time when we were together. He always made me feel like I've known him all my life.
Until he didn't.
I push him away and quickly leave for my car. He calls me back but I drive away, feeling hurt. Why do I still like him this much?
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