Without a fail. He would be the one to call. Not the mystery boy from jersey I know. But the guy I started seeing when I first moved out to LA. I knew they invented caller ID for a reason.
“How was your birthday?”
“It was good. What do you want?”
“I just wanted to see how your birthday was. I haven’t seen you for a while.”
“And your surprised by that?”
“Well I just thought we could or would be friends you know. It’s weird not hanging out with you everyday and I miss you.
“Well..”
“Well... What?”
“Austin, you know what.”
“I was hoping that you could forgive me and give me a second chance. I know I messed up. People make mistakes. Don’t you think this has been going on long enough.”
Summer walks into the room and mouths asking who it is. I mouth back Austin. Her normal reaction, rolling her eyes, plopping down on the couch throwing her arms in the air.
“Look I have to go.”
“Alright. But could we please meet up for lunch or a drink this week?”
“Maybe. I have to go.” Before Austin could even respond I hung up and just sat back.
“So I thought you guys were done?” Summer adjusts herself to stare right at me now.
“We are. We’ve been done. I didn’t even know it was him I just answered the phone without checking and to my surprise it was him.”
“Well, surprise!” We both crack up and get up to meet the rest of the crew for coffee down the street. Summer stays in her dress from the night before. It isn’t exactly a dress you could pull off for night and day but Summer always dose what Summer wants.
“Hey could I borrow a pair of flats? I think if I try walking in heels i might just fall down.”
“Oh what. Did someone have a rough night last night?”
“Funny. But seriously?”
“Have you not learned yet that you never need to ask.”
“Your too good to me.” Smiling I walk up to Summers walk in closet which still is bigger than my apartment but the girl has amazing taste and a bank account with a never ending supply. I grab her black Chanel shoes, Chanel I have always loved. Collection is always timeless and reminds me of being home.
No comments:
Post a Comment