Let's Try This Again Page 2

  But instead I just said, “It’s good timing.” The thing was, I couldn’t tell if he was just asking these questions out of sheer curiosity or not. Unlike me, who can be so transparent that I’m sure Isaac could actually see me digesting this Alfredo right now, he was not so easy to read. The way he was staring at me while I just stared at my food made it feel that way even more. “I don’t really have anything going on here so.”

  “There’s not much to leave,” he finished for me. He didn’t make it a question, but I wondered if he wanted me to respond.

  Okay, rant not over.

  Fuck you. Because I did have something to leave, you just left it first. I hadn’t been this angry when I’d showed up at this little meeting, but everything he did was driving me insane. Even the way he was squirting the ketchup directly onto his fries. Just, no. You want soggy French fries? And if your little squirt stream doesn’t reach under the pile do you have to then squirt more ketchup onto the bottom layer? Cause Lord knows one little line of ketch on a fry is not enough. Just make a ketchup pile, you masochist!

  “I’m leaving in two months. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it from Kristin or something.” Kristin’s the mutual acquaintance I had let the news slip to just for this purpose. Stupid Kristin—gossiping about the things you don’t want anyone to know, but hush hush about info that needs to get out. You had one job, Kristin. Unless he really was just a good liar, in which case I’m sorry, Kristin, and I really like the shirt you wore last weekend.

  He just shrugged, shaking his head. “She mentioned that you aren’t seeing anybody. Like I said before,” he said.

  “I mean, that’s true, too. But I haven’t really been looking for anything because of…y’know. Moving across the country.” It was important that he knew I was single by choice. I was starting to wonder if this was when he would get to why he had asked me to meet him.

  “Right. Of course.”

  We sat together in silence for a moment. Was he letting it sink in? Was he trying not to cry? Was he trying to find a way out of this lunch as fast as possible because what was the point now?

  “Well actually,” he spoke up cautiously, “this could be…good.”

  “Good? How do you mean?” Choose your words carefully, Scruffy McGee.

  “I mean…I miss you, Josie.” And there they were. The words I’d been waiting to hear since we broke up. He always misses me; it’s just never taken him this long to tell me. Like I said, I always waited for him to miss me. Until I realized I had to stop waiting.

  So now, I had.

  And now, all of a sudden, I felt all that missing I had pushed away, pretended I hadn’t felt, and I felt it all at once. It was so much worse than a gradual, casual missing. It was like missing everything I had ever missed, squished together into one minute.

  “You told me not to wait for you, Isaac. So I didn’t.”

  “Hear me out. I do miss you. And yeah, I kind of asked you out today to see if maybe we could try things again. Maybe the timing is finally right this time. But.”

  “But it’s not. I’m leaving.” This is what I had been afraid of…honestly. It was why I hadn’t just told him myself. I was terrified Isaac wouldn’t care that I was basically taking myself out of the equation—allowing him to move on because now he would have no reason not to. I was even more terrified that he would care. And that it would make me regret my choice to go because I had to go. I couldn’t stay in a place that didn’t have any opportunities for me that I wanted anymore. That I should want anymore. A place filled with things that reminded me of everything I didn’t want to remember.

  The pizza place where he held my hand at under the table for the first time. The gym he used to drive me to. His house that I practically lived at. But it was worse than that because it wasn’t just landmarks—it was Twix bars, Third Eye Blind, champagne, snow, grilled cheese, Breaking Bad, my 21st birthday. The list was endless; it seemed like he had purposefully wrapped every single important thing in my life up in him, so I could never forget and never move on. The least I could do was give myself a change of scenery—a sliver of a chance to let go of this ridiculous, pathetic hold I felt like I couldn’t shake.

  “Right, but you’re not leaving for a couple of months.”

  “Okay…”

  “And, let’s face it, we haven’t exactly been the most successful at the relationship thing. Really, the best things ever get is when we start seeing each other again after a break up.”

  “When we’re together but not together.” I was starting to see where he was headed. More than that, I was starting to see his hands running down each side of my back – gripping hard but not rough. Lifting me into the air and pushing my back against the wall next to his bed.

  Ugh, sorry, I digress.

  “So maybe it is finally perfect timing…us without the attachment.” He was still speaking cautiously, trying to make sure he wasn’t wounding my principles or something. I don’t know; I was busy remembering him carrying me to his kitchen counter and laying me down on it the night his roommate was out. “Would you be into that?”

  Would I be into it? That was such a loaded fucking question. Because yes, I would be so into having sex with Isaac again. Best sex of my life – sexiest sex of my life. He boned me on top of a piano once. It was always like, an experience. It was never just sex. But that was also a problem. Sometimes the sex was wild and hot and amazing—other times it was literally beautiful.

  And I hate it that I said that because it sounds so lame and so old and so creepy.

  But it could be so beautiful. Isaac could go so slow and smooth, kissing my whole body before letting me do a thing to him—he was a giver, that’s for goddamn sure. One of those guys that definitely gets off on getting you off. I didn’t know if I’d ever find someone like that again. Once, he kissed only my collarbone for, like, five full minutes and then stopped and stared at me and told me how gorgeous I was. I completely almost O’d, and he had barely touched me…then. And then, he moved those lips down south (which was like one of his favorite activities, praise the Lord) and it was all over.

  As you can probably imagine, that kind of sex could make a “no attachments” deal a little difficult. Being a chick, I am biologically programmed to bond with anyone I have sex with. Fucking nature. Some girls are totally boss at boning and bailing, and, okay, I could be like that sometimes, too. But Isaac was different. And sex like that was different. But I had no choice; I couldn’t get attached. I was leaving…

  So, I mean, might as well, right?

  “I think I could be into that,” I said, and I signed my contract with the devil.

  Isaac smiled at me and moved his hand to brush my fingers with his, shooting tingles down my spine and more burning memories through my brain. “I could definitely be into that. So here’s to us…and to not getting attached.” Isaac raised his glass towards me. I should maybe have thought a second or two longer before I mirrored him, clinking my glass with his.

  Here’s to not getting attached.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Embarrassingly Shortly After

  Forty-five minutes later, we were attached. Physically that is. We had practically run from the restaurant (tipping Jenny generously of course, those roots had to become a priority) to our cars and back to Isaac’s place. To literally launch ourselves onto his bed, where we stayed for the rest of the weekend. On-and-off attached, but mostly on.

  What can I say? It’d been a while.

  I did feel like I was seriously roughing it with that beard, though. After the fourth time, I made him trim it. I couldn’t walk out of there with a beard burn. All my friends would know exactly how that had happened. And then I’d get an earful about how stupid I was being, what was I trying to get out of this, how was this supposed to help me get over him, blah, blah, blah. All I was thinking about at the moment was how badly I wanted to keep getting under him.

  It just wasn’t something I wanted to think about anymore, you know? I
had spent a lot of time missing this man, and I probably would spend time missing him in the future. Right now I just wanted to not miss him for a minute. And to know he had missed me.

  The sex was magnificent, as per usual. I don’t know if it was just all pent up from our time apart, but we were fire. It was exactly the right kind of vibe, too, considering that we weren’t supposed to be getting all lovey-dovey. He pulled my hair just enough; I bit his neck just enough. It was fast and fun and wild. The last thing I thought before I fell asleep that night was that this was definitely a good idea, and I would definitely not regret this. Then I shut my phone off to block out the people who might text me and accidentally remind me otherwise. It was so easy to feel strong and certain when I could turn the outside world off.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Day After The Agreement

  “You boned the guy? Josie. Come. On.” Molly shook her head at me as she lay next to me on her bed. “You already know what I’ll say, so I won’t bother wasting the breath.” She was right, I did know. I had memorized her long ago, and she me.

  It is much easier to feel weak and doubtful when people are there to tell you you’re right. That was what Molly was for at this particular moment. She was my best friend in the entire world—a beautiful girl who liked to pretend she wasn’t. Molly was goofy as hell and had no sense of boundaries between us, and I loved her that way.

  Molly was a magic force in my life, always there to hug, always there to listen.

  Sometimes she had a hard time connecting to this kind of relationship stuff, though.

  “Molls, you should be proud of me. I’m pulling a you. Having a completely physical relationship with no repercussions because there will be absolutely no emotional component.”

  “Are you calling me a slut?”

  I widened my eyes in response, not saying yes but also not saying no. She just laughed, shrugging. Molly was incredibly comfortable with her choice to abstain from being in love.

  Everyone loved Molly, but Molly only ever liked people. Some people. And even liking someone was climbing Everest for her. It was something I envied and sometimes pitied. When I was ready to rip my hair from my scalp or cry myself dry, I wanted so badly to be able to not care, the way Molly could. To detach myself and move on as if the grocery store had just run out of my favorite cereal, and I’d simply have to go with a new choice that week. But when I was in love, I felt sorry that Molly wouldn’t let herself get to that place. Where all you have to do is think about a particular someone and you’re not bored anymore.

  “You know, there was a time you really liked Isaac,” I pointed out. “You even called him a stallion of a man when you met him, compared to the trolls that were asking you out.”

  “Hmm. I think that that changed by the fifth time you called me crying over the latest fucked up thing that he did. Like when he kissed his whore ex-girlfriend KK. Or when he told you he considered your relationship of five months ‘open.’ OR when he…”

  “OKAY. I get it. Thank you.”

  “I wanted to like him, Josie. I asked all the best friend questions—wanted updates on your nightly acrobatic routines, hoping this guy would finally be a good one. They just never are. Especially the ones you choose.” She shrugged and rolled onto her back.

  “That’s fair, I get it. I wanted him to be that, too.”

  That’s why it became so hard for Molly to keep accepting my dumb behavior. She kept seeing me getting hurt by the whole situation. He had made it so easy for me to fall for him and just as easy for Molly to like him because of that. Until I got hurt. She had really attached herself to me, so when I hurt she hurt, mostly due to the fact that she never let herself get hurt.

  Molly saw me at my highest highs and absolute lowest lows as a direct result of Isaac’s actions. She said he never was really giving me anything, was just acting like he wanted to give me everything so that I would keep letting the hearts in my eyes blind me from the reality. And duh, I was sick of it. But the times he promised everything always made me forget the times he gave me nothing.

  Molly never forgot.

  Annoying bitch. But that’s what your annoying bitch best friends are for. To keep you from getting too badly hurt.

  “I’m gonna have to speaker Ellie in on this…I can’t handle it alone.” Molly pulled her phone out and hit the screen a few times until our other best friend, Ellie, popped up on her caller ID.

  Ellie was way too good looking as well, and I swear I’m not just being biased because they’re my favorite people on Earth. She was blessed with naturally perky, porn-star boobs and a petite figure, so you tell me if that doesn’t sound perfect. If Molly was classically stunning, Ellie was just hot. I loved to hate her for her bombshell-ness.

  “Hello?”

  “Ellie. It’s Molly. And Josie.”

  “MoJo, my favorite pair. What’s up? What’re you doing? Why am I not with you?” Ellie was a severe sufferer from FOMO, constantly in Fear Of Missing Out.

  “Oh, just busy hearing the details of Josie’s latest lay,” Molly said lazily. I knew what she was doing…ramping up for the big reveal. “YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHO,” she screamed dramatically into the phone. Ellie didn’t answer for a few seconds. It was like listening to her wheels turning. I could see her eyes moving from side to side like she was physically searching for the answer inside her brain.

  Then – “No…”

  “YES.”

  Of course, I’m sitting there rolling my eyes, sighing, acting like all the drama is over the top. If the tables were turned, however, (and they had been, many times,) I would be doing the same thing. Probably yelling even louder. We girls always say, “I hate drama,” and while I do hate drama, I love dramatics. I never really thought I was dramatic until I went to college away from these two—every new person I met would react to me with varying degrees of shock. I was told to calm down at, basically, any comment I made.

  Apparently I have a tone. We’re three peas in a hot, dramatic pod, and I am not ashamed to say that.

  “Isaac? Really, Josephine? Are we doing this again?” Ellie sounded truly distressed. Maybe worried for my actual well-being. Molly nodded along, supporting everything she said. “Should we have another drunkover, write another list of why you’re better off without him? I’m sure I have drafts 1 through 6 around here somewhere.” Drunkover being a sleepover, but instead of sleep you pass out from too much wine. “Didn’t you tell him about California? How did this even happen?”

  “You know how this happened,” Molly answered for me. “She’s been posting hot ass pictures of herself all over Instagram since they talked last. He’s been stalking them, obviously. He called her for lunch, and yes, I’m using the term lunch loosely because lunch turned into a dinner and bed and breakfast situation.”

  “You batted your wicked Disney-princess eyes at him, didn’t you?” Ellie continued. I paused for a moment to make sure they were actually going to let me talk this time and took a deep breath.

  “Okay. First of all. I resent you using ‘Disney princess’ in a negative way.” Honestly, I did have really big fucking eyes, like a cartoon character. And usually this would be considered a good thing amongst us. At least until I used them for evil. “Second of all, Molly has conveniently left out the agreement Isaac and I have come to in order to make this situation work.”

  “Well,” Ellie butted in, “it’s not going to work. We already know that. All of us. But continue.”

  Now I was getting annoyed. Judgey McJudy over here. Whatever. “Yes, I told him about California. And yeah, he was looking to start things back up between us. But me leaving kind of created the perfect, no-pressure opening for us.”

  “Oh, GOD, Josie, do you realize who you sound like right now?” Ellie interjected. I smirked and glanced to Molly. I knew exactly who I sounded like.

  “Let’s leave me out of this, girls,” Molly said, trying to direct the conversation away from her never-fall-in-love issues as quickly as possible
.

  “Seriously, though. We agreed not to get attached. You guys cannot deny that the two of us have been great together…and usually that’s at the beginning of whenever we start talking again. Before he becomes my ‘boyfriend,’ before there are all these expectations.” It got serious all of a sudden when I finished. Maybe because I’d said “seriously”? Neither girl answered right away, but Molly chewed her lips and then came back in.

  “You and Isaac have been great. You’re right. We’ve seen how happy he’s made you. But that’s not where you are now. That’s not where you were when you guys broke up. He is not the same guy you fell for the first time around. Truthfully, I don’t know if he ever was that guy. He’s let you down, and he’s manipulated you because he knows what you want to hear.”

  “I mean, there’s no question in my mind that Isaac cares about you.” Ellie’s voice joined in through the phone. “Guys who don’t care at all don’t cook dinner for you, or leave sweet notes in your jacket pocket, or call you when they can sense you’ve had a bad day.”

  All of her reminiscing had put me into a dreamy, nostalgic state as well, so Molly nailed me in the face with a pillow.

  “BUT that doesn’t mean he isn’t still a guy—and they’re all fucked up losers who don’t know what they want. Or they want everything and they have no idea how to focus in on one person’s needs. One person who is not themselves,” Molly finished Ellie’s wandering argument.

  “Jos, here’s the thing. Of course Isaac likes you. He always comes back; he can’t stay away from you.” Ellie had clearly gotten Molly’s message, but softened up Molly’s tough love the way Ellie always could. “Sometimes, guys realize before we do that they aren’t good for us. Or good enough for us. And that’s when they push us away. Him saying he doesn’t want to get attached to you? That’s him pushing you. That’s always been his deal. Whether or not he’s conscious of it, Isaac knows he doesn’t deserve you. He’s just not strong enough to stay away from you.”