Mr. Wrong Number(52)

I walked down to the market on the corner and purchased a dinner of hot dogs, a box of Frosted Flakes, and Diet Coke, and once I got home, I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was such a quiet apartment with no TV, and I was getting sick of mindlessly messing with my phone. I had a bed and two barstools—that was it.

Empty, like me at the moment.

I kept thinking Colin would text an apology, but of course not. He probably didn’t even care.

Jackass.

I forced myself not to think about the night before—no good could come of that—and after lying on my bare mattress for an hour with no sleepiness to be found, I sent a text to Mr. Wrong Number.


Me: I know we don’t know each other, but we DID have an actual friendship and you could’ve at least said goodbye. Right now everything in my life is in the trash and I’m kind of alone, and I could really use an anonymous friend. Sucks that you suck so badly.



I plugged my phone into the charger and shut off the light.

Screw him, too.

Boys sucked.

But then my phone buzzed. I looked down at it in the darkness.


Mr. Wrong Number: I can’t tell you why I disappeared, but it was nothing you did and I’m so sorry for leaving you alone. I know you’re mad, but if you need to talk, I’m here.



I wanted to stay mad but the truth of the matter was that I needed to talk. I desperately needed to talk to someone who didn’t know me or my situation. I turned the light back on.


Me: What would you say if I told you that I slept with my brother’s best friend, got fired from my job for lying, then found out that my brother’s best friend was the one responsible for airing the secret that got me fired?





Colin


I stared down at the phone in my hand and didn’t know what to do. Hell.

Because I was torn between feeling really bad for Liv, and being really pissed at her. It sucked that she got fired from a job she loved, especially when she was so good at it. I knew her well enough to know she was hurt and also stressing the hell out over paying rent on the new apartment.

Which was why I’d sent that apology text from Mr. Wrong Number.

But.

How could she think I’d tell? That was ludicrous in and of itself—like, who the fuck would I tell?—but her quick accusation had shown exactly what she thought of me. After living together for a month, I’d thought we’d become friends in our way.

And then the sex.

So I was shocked speechless when she basically said I was exactly like my father. Shit, I wouldn’t have even guessed she’d known or remembered my dad, but apparently she did and assumed I was his country club mini-me. My worst goddamned nightmare.

You’ve been a busy girl, I responded.


Olivia: In the worst possible way.



I wasn’t going to ask any questions. I just needed to make her feel okay and then I’d return to ghosting. I texted: That sucks.

Texting bubbles and then—


The sex was unreal. Like, porn stars would probably be jealous of how good we were.



Dammit. I agreed wholeheartedly, but it was wrong for me to see that when it wasn’t intended for my eyes. I responded with: Wow.


Olivia: Right? I mean, it was going nowhere and we’d already agreed that it’d never happen again, but sleeping with him was like the MOST fun. That is, until I woke up to the worst morning of my life.



I couldn’t stop myself. I texted: How do you know he’s the one who told?


Olivia: No one else knew.

Me: You sure?

Olivia: Absolutely. And he’s totally the dickhead type to ruin me for fun.



I sent one more text before turning off the lamp and going to bed, frustrated that I couldn’t do anything to help the absurd situation.


Me: Well at least the sex was good.





15





Olivia


“Honey, slow down on the pancakes.”

I rolled my eyes while chewing with an overfilled mouth.

My mother said, “Don’t roll your eyes at me. You’re twenty-five years old, for the love of God.”

I breathed in through my nose and looked across the table at Dana, who looked like she was trying not to laugh. I’d joined the whole family for Sunday breakfast at IHOP, and though the pancakes were delicious, the company was working on my last nerve.

The minute I’d walked in, my mother said, “Did you really get fired already?”

It’d been a week since it all went down, so I supposed I should thank my lucky stars that she’d given me that much time. The hostess eyeballed me like I was a loser while I explained to my mother the “misunderstanding” that had transpired between me and my former employer.

To which she’d responded with, “You had to have known they thought you were a parent if they hired you to be a parenting columnist. Come on.”

My mom was a lot of things, but stupid she was not.

I sat at the other end of the table, by Dana and Will, hoping she’d move on, but my mother just yelled questions louder in my direction. “So how are you going to afford your fancy new apartment?”

As if that weren’t crappy enough, Kyle and Brady were at Dana’s parents’ house, so I didn’t even have my little buddies to play with.