She doesn’t quit. “If I invite you to my party on Saturday, would you come?”
I stare at her, unamused. She does realize this counts as harassment, right?
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Stacy, I’d like this conversation to be over.”
She folds her arms, grinning like she’s about to score another point. “Honestly, Braydon, didn’t you miss me even for—”
“No.” I cut her off, rising to my feet. “If you’re asking if I missed you even for a second…no. You never crossed my mind.”
I leave her by the table, grab my stuff from the counter, pay, and leave. I’m not just upset, I’m also irritated, like some annoying bug crawling across my arm.
As I slide into my car, a familiar sting of disappointment hits me. Every time I remember the dumb mistakes I used to make like hooking up with all those people, it’s n
