he wants. I’d hoped he could find something else to talk about. Like, why not ask me about my life once in a while?
I flick the blinker and make a right turn toward downtown. I’m not sure where I’m going yet, but I had to get out of the house.
Am I doing the right thing? Is Patrick going to flip out and go off the deep end when he realizes I’m seriously done? Maybe. But I can’t be with him forever. No freaking way. That’s why I’ve decided to end this now. I’ll save him from heartbreak later on, and save myself from the torture of dealing with his crazy mood swings.
I push the talk button on my steering wheel. “Call Brea.” After a few rings, she picks up.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?”
“Hey, Brea, are you free tonight?” I ask.
“Sure am. Wanna meet up for dinner and drinks at Mary Jane’s?” She sounds excited to hear from me. Brea and I have been best friends since the day we met in first grade. We used to climb up to the top of the climbing dome on the playground and scope out all the cute boys together. Although we didn’t realize it until years later, she always seemed to go for the well-behaved, smart, preppy guys, while I had a thing for the bad boys.
“Yes, please. That would be perfect.”
“You okay, chick?” Brea asks, her voice laced with concern.
“Um…yeah. I’ll be better than ever soon. My best gal pal, a juicy burger from Mary Jane’s, and a few whiskey sours should do the trick.”
I make one last left turn onto Brea’s street.
“Sounds good. Shall I call us a cab? You know, just in case you need a few more whiskey sours than you think,” she giggles.
“You know me so well. What would I do without you, Brea?”
“Let’s hope we never have to worry about that.” I’m pretty sure I can hear her smile through the phone.
“See you in just a second.”
“Calling the cab now—I’ll have them pick us up in thirty minutes.”
I push ‘end call’ as I pull into her driveway and park.
Brea opens the door just as I’m walking up to her front steps. Her gorgeous, sandy brown curls are pulled up into a perfect ponytail, and her hazel eyes are highlighted by just a touch of makeup. “All right. Spill it, Lex. What’s going on?”
I walk inside and Brea shuts the door behind me. I toss my purse onto her dark cherry wood kitchen table and walk into the living room. She can always tell I’m upset, even if I think I’ve hidden it. I sink down onto the couch and run my hands over my face. “I’m going to break up with Patrick.”
“What? Why? What happened? What did he do? Did he hurt you? I thought he was head over heels for you?” She’s shooting questions at me rapid fire.
“He is. I’m just tired of his crazy mood swings. I can’t handle it any more. He’s like a ticking time bomb.”
Brea walks over and sits down on the dark blue suede chair that’s off to the left of her couch. She looks at me with concern in her eyes. “You’re right, sweetie. You don’t need that shit,” she says.
“Plus, I don’t feel that spark that everyone always says you’re supposed to feel when you’re with ‘the one’. He needs to find someone that is willing to put up with his bullshit attitude,” I say, combing my hands through my hair.
Brea nods in agreement while chewing on the inside of her cheek. Suddenly, she jumps up. “I have an idea. Tomorrow, let’s go for those BFF tattoos we’ve been talking about. I’ll call Josh when I get home and set up an appointment for us. But for now, let’s go have those juicy burgers and drinks. I’m starving.” I let out a deep sigh. “Come on,” she says with a frustrated groan. “Whiskey Sours always cheer you up. Plus, that AMAZING smokey-flavor homemade ketchup that Mary Jane’s is famous for.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“Okay, fine. Let’s go. Tonight, we’re going to drink until we’re silly, and tomorrow—” I trail off and let out another sigh. “Tomorrow, I will call Patrick
I flick the blinker and make a right turn toward downtown. I’m not sure where I’m going yet, but I had to get out of the house.
Am I doing the right thing? Is Patrick going to flip out and go off the deep end when he realizes I’m seriously done? Maybe. But I can’t be with him forever. No freaking way. That’s why I’ve decided to end this now. I’ll save him from heartbreak later on, and save myself from the torture of dealing with his crazy mood swings.
I push the talk button on my steering wheel. “Call Brea.” After a few rings, she picks up.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?”
“Hey, Brea, are you free tonight?” I ask.
“Sure am. Wanna meet up for dinner and drinks at Mary Jane’s?” She sounds excited to hear from me. Brea and I have been best friends since the day we met in first grade. We used to climb up to the top of the climbing dome on the playground and scope out all the cute boys together. Although we didn’t realize it until years later, she always seemed to go for the well-behaved, smart, preppy guys, while I had a thing for the bad boys.
“Yes, please. That would be perfect.”
“You okay, chick?” Brea asks, her voice laced with concern.
“Um…yeah. I’ll be better than ever soon. My best gal pal, a juicy burger from Mary Jane’s, and a few whiskey sours should do the trick.”
I make one last left turn onto Brea’s street.
“Sounds good. Shall I call us a cab? You know, just in case you need a few more whiskey sours than you think,” she giggles.
“You know me so well. What would I do without you, Brea?”
“Let’s hope we never have to worry about that.” I’m pretty sure I can hear her smile through the phone.
“See you in just a second.”
“Calling the cab now—I’ll have them pick us up in thirty minutes.”
I push ‘end call’ as I pull into her driveway and park.
Brea opens the door just as I’m walking up to her front steps. Her gorgeous, sandy brown curls are pulled up into a perfect ponytail, and her hazel eyes are highlighted by just a touch of makeup. “All right. Spill it, Lex. What’s going on?”
I walk inside and Brea shuts the door behind me. I toss my purse onto her dark cherry wood kitchen table and walk into the living room. She can always tell I’m upset, even if I think I’ve hidden it. I sink down onto the couch and run my hands over my face. “I’m going to break up with Patrick.”
“What? Why? What happened? What did he do? Did he hurt you? I thought he was head over heels for you?” She’s shooting questions at me rapid fire.
“He is. I’m just tired of his crazy mood swings. I can’t handle it any more. He’s like a ticking time bomb.”
Brea walks over and sits down on the dark blue suede chair that’s off to the left of her couch. She looks at me with concern in her eyes. “You’re right, sweetie. You don’t need that shit,” she says.
“Plus, I don’t feel that spark that everyone always says you’re supposed to feel when you’re with ‘the one’. He needs to find someone that is willing to put up with his bullshit attitude,” I say, combing my hands through my hair.
Brea nods in agreement while chewing on the inside of her cheek. Suddenly, she jumps up. “I have an idea. Tomorrow, let’s go for those BFF tattoos we’ve been talking about. I’ll call Josh when I get home and set up an appointment for us. But for now, let’s go have those juicy burgers and drinks. I’m starving.” I let out a deep sigh. “Come on,” she says with a frustrated groan. “Whiskey Sours always cheer you up. Plus, that AMAZING smokey-flavor homemade ketchup that Mary Jane’s is famous for.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“Okay, fine. Let’s go. Tonight, we’re going to drink until we’re silly, and tomorrow—” I trail off and let out another sigh. “Tomorrow, I will call Patrick
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