Betting on You

I sat back on the bed and stared at the phone in my hand, feeling gutted.

Hollow.

It felt like my stomach was made of lead and was slowly crushing everything else inside me, and no amount of TUMS was going to help.

Because it was finally over.

I’d always known it would happen, but it felt a thousand times worse than I’d imagined.

I was never going to get another text from Bay. I was never going to make her forehead crinkle with my words, or hear her laugh in that surprised way she had when she tried and failed to suppress it, never going to hear her quiet intake of breath when she realized we were about to kiss, and never going to hear her sleepily say G’night, Charlie on the other end of the phone.

A thousand tiny nothing moments that were collectively every fucking thing I’d ever wanted.

And I’d thrown it all away.

That old adage about it being better to have loved and lost was bullshit, in my opinion, because in no fucking way was it better to have and lose. Having and losing felt like slow, painful torture, and it was killing me.

God, how had I fucked it up so badly?

It had absolutely been my intention to blow her off and stop any romantic emotions, but I hadn’t meant to hurt her, even though I knew that made zero fucking sense. I’d wanted distance to figure everything out, but I hadn’t meant to make her feel like she wasn’t important to me.

Fuck, I definitely hadn’t meant for her to think that she and I were just the result of a fucking frat-boy moronic bet.

Yet here we were.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and my pulse skyrocketed, but disappointment pressed even harder on my solar plexus when I realized that it wasn’t Bailey or Nekesa.

It was Becca. What’s up?

I pictured Becca’s face, but that familiar rush of unchecked emotions didn’t come. I watched conversation bubbles appear, but I felt nothing.

Nothing but disappointment that it wasn’t her.

Bec: Just got back from the movies. We saw the new Jurassic flick and it sucked.

She probably went with Kyle, yet I still felt nothing as I pictured them at the theater.

Was that how it worked? You had to get your heart destroyed again in order to get over the first person who destroyed your heart?

Fucking relationships.

I reached for the TUMS next to my bed and texted: Just sitting in my room, being depressed because I ruined everything with Bailey.

Becca: Oh my God I KNEW you were super into her; I told Kyle that after the party! Tell me everything. Maybe I can help.

I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, because what the fuck was this?

Becca had crushed my heart and moved on, yet she was… still here.

What the fuck was going on?

I texted: Why would you do that?

Becca: Um, because you’re my friend…? DUH.

Was I her friend? Were Becca and I friends?

That was probably nice, and it should’ve felt like a full-circle moment, right? This is when Charlie Sampson learns he’s been wrong all along.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

But it didn’t matter.

Because who the fuck would I share that little gem with? Bailey was the only one who’d appreciate it, the only one I would want to tell, and I’d ruined everything with her because I was an idiot.

Bailey had been worth the risk, and I’d missed that.

And now I missed her so much, it felt a little bit like I was having a heart attack.