Fucktard.
Yeah, okay. I liked the marshmallow, Dane. I’d like to eat a dozen of them with her. Maybe I won’t rush home quite yet, okay?
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I take it out, seeing Annie’s name. I hit Ignore. She’s probably wondering where I am with her snacks. I’ll call her back in a minute.
“So…” Dane says. “All these pictures you’re posting on the page…you don’t have a boyfriend who’s going to come hunting us down, right?”
I tense. Ryen doesn’t have a boyfriend. She would’ve told me.
“Nah,” she replies. “He knows I can’t be tied down.”
Dane laughs, and I stand there, listening.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she finally answers seriously.
“I find that hard to believe—”
“And I’m not looking for one, either,” she cuts Dane off. “I had one once, and you have to bathe them and feed them and walk them…”
“So what happened?” Dane asks.
She shrugs. “I’d lowered my standards. Too low, apparently. After that, I got picky.”
“Does any man measure up?”
“One.” Her eyes dart to me and then back to Dane. “But I’ve never met him.”
One. Only one guy who measures up. Does she mean me?
My phone vibrates again, and I reach in my pocket, silencing it.
I glance up and see cameras flashing all over and spot people taking a pic in front of the graffiti wall to the right.
I step up and take her phone, surprising her. Walking around behind her, I turn on the camera, changing it to selfie mode, and lean down, capturing our faces on the screen. But I adjust it to also include the guy behind us taking a picture of two girls in front of the graffiti pictures. “A picture…”—I speak low in her ear, indicating our selfie— “of a picture” —I point to the guy behind us on the screen taking a pic— “of a picture.” And I gesture to the graffiti wall they’re standing in front of.
A smile finally breaks out on her face. “That’s clever. Thanks.”
And I click the pic, saving the moment forever.
Before pulling away and saying goodbye, I inhale her scent, frozen for a moment as I smile to myself.
You’re really going to hate me, Angel, when we finally do meet someday and you put all this together.
Ryen takes the phone and slowly walks away, looking back over her shoulder at me before disappearing in a throng of people.
And already I want her back.
I dig in my pocket and pull out my phone, dialing my sister. How much will she hate me if I ask her to go get her own snacks? I’m not sure I’m ready to leave yet, actually.
But when I call back, there’s no answer.
Three months later…
Dear Misha,
What. The. Hell?
Yeah, you heard me. I said it. I might also say this will be my last letter, but I know that’s not true. I’m not going to give up on you. You made me promise I wouldn’t, so here I am. Still Miss Fucking Reliable after three months of no word from you. Hope you’re having fun, wherever you are, douchebag.