McKayla frowns, looks up like she’s thinking about what I just said, then immediately shakes her head. “Nah,” she laughs. “I think I’m the one telling you the truth like Simon Cowell, and you’re the contestant who still thinks he can sing and has a shot at making it big!”
“Simon Cowell, right…”
McKayla does that thing she always used to do when she knows she’s wrong, which is to start off with a heavy sigh and then sort of fall forward and expect me to catch her against my chest, but since I’ve seen it far too many times and have no interest in participating in it again, I move out of the way very early and force her to catch herself against the counter.
“Christian!”
“Look, McKayla, I’m just not in the mood for this tonight, okay? I had a shitty day already, and I don’t want to argue with you. You cheated on me with an out-of-town guy who you thought could be your sugar daddy and get you out of here, and it didn’t work out and now you want me as your fall-back guy. You know how insulting that is?”
I take a swig of my beer and stare at her from across the kitchen. Today has just been the entire world trying to crush me down, but I’m not going to let it.
I’ve found my dream girl, and she’s going to be here soon, but I have to get McKayla the hell out of here so she doesn’t ruin the only good thing I have left to look forward to.
“Fine, I made a mistake, all right?” McKayla huffs. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong about this.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe not,” I reply, just agreeing with her as a way to end this conversation. “But you are wrong if you think I’m going to come back to a girl who cheated on me. Now if you’ll excuse me, this is my house and I need you to leave now.”
I can see the emotion in her eyes as she stares at me. My guess is this isn’t how she saw this going, just as today isn’t how I saw my day going either. There’s a tense moment where it seems like she’s about to say something, maybe turn this into an argument, but thankfully the moment passes and McKayla takes one last swig of her beer and tosses it loudly into the sink.
“Fine, Christian. Go for your little rich girl. Be my guest,” she says, brushing past me for the door. “But don’t come crying to me for a make-up fuck when it doesn’t work out.”
She nearly rips my door off its hinges on her way out.
“Don’t worry, McKayla. I won’t,” I say as she steps out into the evening light.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I close the door and go to the sink to pour out the rest of her beer and toss the bottle in the recycling.
“What a day,” I mutter. “What a damn day.”
I take a half-hour to clean up, shower, and get myself put together and fresh before Kate shows up, then grab a seat on the couch and wait. An hour passes, and I start to get fidgety. I realize I don’t have her number so I can’t even text her to see when she’ll be here.
Another hour passes, and despite my excitement over seeing her, I start to get tired. It’s been a long few days of hard work and early rising. I check the time:
9:15.
There’s still time. Don’t give up on her yet.
I kick up my feet and put on the TV. There’s a repeat football game playing that I leave on, but the next thing I know I’m waking up to some reality show garbage that I’d never watch in a million years.
I check the time again.
12:45 A.M.
Rubbing my eyes, I sit up and switch off the T.V. Yeah, she’s not coming. It’s too late, and I’ve got to get to bed if I’m going to have any hope of being able to do my job tomorrow.
As I take the stairs up to the bedroom, all I can hear is McKayla’s voice in my head.
“She might think it will be fun to fuck you once or twice… but there’s no way she’ll ever stay with you.”