Mr. Wrong Number(42)

Aw, hell. I don’t know why, but the thought of her lying on that shitty air mattress with no furniture made me feel like trash. So much so that I lost my fucking mind and opened the drawer on my nightstand, pulling out my old iPhone. I’d stopped using it years ago, after I transferred all my calls to my work phone, but I’d never gotten around to disconnecting the line.





Olivia


My phone buzzed and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

And then I saw that it wasn’t Mr. Wrong Number. It was a number I didn’t know at all, and I hated how disappointed I was. I opened the message.


How’s the new apartment, loser?



That made me smile and text: Who is this?

I got up and went down the stairs. I was thirsty, and though not really in the mood for a Bud Light, it was at least cold. I was opening the fridge when my phone buzzed again.


It’s Colin. Duh.



My half giggle was loud in the empty apartment as I grabbed a beer and shut the door.


Me: How would I have known that? Have we ever texted each other before?

Colin: You’re in my contacts, so I assumed it was mutual. Maybe Jack used my phone sometime.

Me: Sure. Just admit that you miss me already.

Colin: What’s to miss? Your noise? Your mess? Your ability to dirty every towel in the bathroom and leave them all on the floor?

Me: On that note, can I borrow your conditioner in the morning?

Colin: Now you’re asking?

Me: I’m not your roommate anymore.

Colin: You never were.

Me: Oh, that’s right. I was your unwanted houseguest.

Colin: I thought you forgave me for that.

Me: Yeah but I want to use your crème rinse, so . . .

Colin: You do know now that you live alone you’re going to have to go shopping for things you actually need, right?

Me: Sigh. Yes.

Colin: It’s not so bad.

Me: Says you.

Colin: So you never answered my question. How’s the new pad?



I took the beer and went out on the balcony. It smelled like summer and was still hot, and I adored that if I leaned just right I could see the glowing neon lights of Pazza Notte, my absolute favorite restaurant. I texted: Ridiculously perfect. Btw, did I ever thank you for giving me a reference?


Colin: I assumed that was what the kiss was all about.



I almost dropped the phone off the balcony. I didn’t know what the hell to say or why he would bring that up and my heart started racing at the mention of the—


Colin: Relax. I was just messing but you went radio silent fucking fast.



I rolled my eyes but laughed.


Me: Screw you, Beck.

Colin: I think you wanted to.

Me: Um, if I recall, you were the instigator.

Colin: You might be right, but you were all in, Livvie. Admit it.

Me: I wasn’t disgusted. How about that?

Colin: How about if your brother hadn’t come home, I think we might’ve . . .

Me: Don’t say it.

Colin: Totally ended up in my bed.



“Oh, my God.” I opened the door and went back into the dark apartment, freaking out and nearly running up the steps to the loft.

I bit down on my lip and texted: You might be right.


Colin: We both know I’m right.



That made me giggle; Colin was fun to flirt with. Who would’ve guessed that?


Me: So, um, can I have a thirty min nap tomorrow?

Colin: Seriously? I thought my bed was mine now.

Me: I still can’t sleep well because of my raft bed, jackwad. I’m only asking for thirty when you aren’t home. Don’t be stingy with your Purple.

Colin: Fine. You can have thirty, but you owe me.



I dropped down onto the air mattress, giggling yet again with full-on butterflies in my belly. I rolled onto my side, pulled the sheet over my shoulders, and closed my eyes, wholly disgusted with myself for having cliché butterflies.


Me: Swear to God I’d do almost anything to get some alone time with that mattress. We have a deal.

Colin: Btw, you do know that your brother can never know about what happened, right?



I pictured Jack yelling at Milo, my middle school boyfriend, when he walked in on us kissing in the backyard.


Me: Duh. He’d kill us both.

Colin: G’night, Olivia.





12





Olivia


“This was so fun, Olivia.”

I smiled and wanted to be struck by lightning. Glenda had called and invited me to lunch to talk about the column, and it’d been really nice for a while. We had delicious pizza at Zio’s and the woman was hilarious, but then she started talking about her kids. Asking about mine. Each time I gave a vague answer and then pulled an ohmigosh, is that Tom Brady over there? type of distraction to lead the conversation away from our offspring.

But it was a screaming reminder that eventually, the whole thing really was going to go down in flames. It was only a matter of time, but instead of focusing on the downfall, I was concentrating on enjoying the ride.

“I know—we should do this again soon.” I finished my Diet Pepsi and pushed the glass up on the table. “Thanks for inviting me.”