I don't hold many regrets in my life. But Saturday is one. Wren agrees to go out with me of course so that day I dress in dark colored khakis and a baby blue button up. I don't normally wear colors, but for some reason I'm compelled to dress in something other than funeral black. I pull my brains into a low ponytail. When I check my appearance in the mirror, I look like a certified fuck boy. Fitting.
Why are you doing this to her?
My mind flashes back to the last time I saw her.
***
When I leave work, Layne is waiting for me at my truck. She throws herself into me, attacking me with kisses. Normally I would melt, but this time I tense under her touch.
"Layne---"
"I'm sorry!" Layne pleads with me, "I didn't mean it!"
"I already accepted your apology."
She loosens the grip on my shirt collar, "Really?"
"Yeah," I shrug, preparing myself for what I'm about to say next, "I'm still gonna go though."
"You're still gonna go? Out? With her?" she questions, "You're just gonna look me in the eye and tell me you're going on a Valentine's Date with another female?" anger flashes across her face, "Are you stupid?"
"Maybe a little," I admit, "But obviously you don't trust me. This way, I can go on a fucking date, resolve my feelings for her and shit, and then I'll come back to you. Like always."
"Like always..." she repeats.
***
At the time that sounded like sound logic, but now I wasn't so sure. She'd still let me spend the night, but now? As I look at myself now, this argument seems stupid. I'm being selfish-- And for what? A concert with a has-been crush?
I check my phone for what has to be the thousandth time this hour, and find once again, no notifications. I wonder what Layne is doing. And I wonder who she's doing it with. I can only imagine she's in her apartment worrying about me as well. It isn't cheating if you don't like her...
I clear my head by scrolling through my social media, specifically checking for one name. Sure enough, I find her, wedged between a scenic photo and k-idol's selfie. It's a photo of us, only you can't tell it's me, since we're turned around. In addition, she's edited in a squiggle of a line, indicating the photo is ripped. I read the caption, irritated: Kehlani had it right. Just throw the whole girl away. I open my snap chat and check her story, which is about ten videos of her vibing to "In My Feelings" by the aforementioned artist.
I roll my eyes. Petty. I find a thin tie to complete my simple but mature look. I snap a photo of myself before I lace up a pair of my boots, then head out.
***
Wren hops into my truck, clearly excited, despite my own resignation from the date.
"Hey," she kisses me quickly on the cheek and I wipe it off. "Rule one of this... whatever... Don't do that."
"Do what?" she gives me a sinister look.
"Touch me," I say, "This is technically our first date. So pretend we've never met. Are you gonna kiss your date the first time you meet them?"
"If they're hot yeah," she says the comment off-handedly and I feel my neck heat.
"That's cause you're---"
"Nope!" she interrupts me, "If we're playing by your rules, you don't know me- So you can't call me a hoe. You don't know what I'm into."
I start to refute her, before realizing she's right. "Fine."
She smirks, clearly satisfied with herself, "So... What are you into?"
We end up talking the whole ride over to the club where the event is being held. Somewhere during Wren leading me on and breaking my heart, I'd forgotten why we'd even become friends in the first place. She was incredibly easy to talk to, and we shared a lot of common interests.
I don't even remember much of what happened at the actual showcase, I was so busy talking to her.
"Hey is that your phone?" Wren asks, not trying to stop shit but out of curiosity.
I pull the vibrating device from my pocket see a missed call from Layne. I turn it on silent and slide it back into my pocket.
"Who was it?" She inquires.
"Nobody." I lie.
***
After everyone has performed we slip out in order to beat traffic back home.
"I surprisingly had fun tonight," I force myself to say, because it's the truth, although it's forced and something feels wrong.
"Me too. I forgot how chill you are when you aren't being an asshole," she tells me. That sounds like something Layne would say.
I walk Wren to her door and she turns to me, "Wanna come inside and chat?"
"Alright," I push off my feelings of independent doom and follow her in. I sit awkwardly in her living room, taking a seat on the sectional taking up most of it.
Wren slides into my lap, massaging my shoulders, "What would you say if I told you I'd lied to you?"
"I'd ask about what," my heart slams in my chest. I should be telling her to move. To get off of me. But on the other hand---
This is it. This is what I've wanted since junior year. Wren Davis. All to myself.
"That when I said I don't like you...." She leans in so that her lips are right next to my ear, "I lied... I do like you... A lot..."
I swallow, trying not to focus on the proximity of her. Sirens go off in my head. You have a girlfriend shitbag. I think about Layne. How she smells. How she felt last night, her kisses. How she looked at me when I left that morning.
Memories of us flash in my mind.
"I really like you KJ..."
"I love you..."
"Kaylie Jane~~~"
Anger rises in me and I respond, "Really? And you thought that a year later would be your chance to make a move?"
"I was stupid last year," she says, "I was so mean to you..."
I go through my memories with her. The tears. The pain. The rejection. She broke me into pieces. Pieces that Layne put back together.
Everything hits me at once. This is what I'd subconsciously longed to hear for so long, but not now. It's too late now.
"And so what?"
"What?" panic shakes her.
I meet her gaze, "Now that you see Layne getting the signature KJ Parker lovin' you're jealous?" I try to keep my voice steady, but honestly, she's pissing me off, "You can't just treat somebody like shit for hellas and then spawn from hell to fuck up my new relationship."
"I said I was sorry," she recoils from me.
"'Sorry' doesn't fix how you treated me. 'Sorry' isn't gonna fix all the shit I did to Layne because I was scared she'd hurt me like you did. 'Sorry' doesn't mean jack shit to me at this point. Not after everything." She slides off my lap and I stand.
"This," I gesture between us, "Would never work."
"Kaylie Jane--" she reaches for me but I dodge her hand.
"It's KJ. It's been KJ," I grab my bag and bolt to my truck. As I told you, I'm in love with you...
Layne's personal ringtone sounds and I search for it, finding it wedged between my seat and the console, the no man's land of every car. I fuck my hand up on something sharp reaching for it, but I eventually reach it. I unlock my phone, the picture of Layne and I dissolving into the homepage of my phone-- Another picture of her.
Notifications flash across the screen. 17 missed calls. All back to back. All from one person.
I call her back but her phone goes right to voicemail. Shit.
I put my phone down and floor it to Layne's house.