was still no sign of Krystal, but my car was there. I’d been hoping she would let me unload on her.
I ended up not seeing her for the rest of the weekend. I texted her a few times, but got no response. I knew I couldn’t call Grace and tell her everything. And when Sunday rolled around—the day I always called my parents and checked in—I didn’t feel like talking to them. I sent an email instead, feigning a cold with a sore throat, and apologizing for not being able to talk. My dad wrote back within thirty minutes, relaying my mom’s best home remedy for a sore throat. I felt bad for lying to them, but I just couldn’t talk to them right then. I had no choice.
I spent the weekend alone, watching things I’d put in my Netflix queue.
In a way, I both dreaded and looked forward to Monday morning equally. I knew I couldn’t skip work, no matter how badly I wanted to avoid looking like something was wrong and having Kevin ask me about it. The flipside of the coin was that I’d have something aside from streaming movies to focus on, and not think about how stupid I’d been to go that far with Max.
Kevin called shortly after I opened the office and told me he’d be out all day. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could ease back into my work for a day.
I finally got in touch with Krystal when eating my lunch salad at my desk.
“How was your weekend?” she asked.
“Okay.”
“What happened with Max?”
The floodgates opened and I told her the whole story.
When I was finished she said, “What an ass! See, this is what I was telling you to be ready for.”
“I know, I know.” I didn’t want a lecture.
“And he didn’t call you all weekend?”
“Nope.”
“Ah, forget him,” she said. “I know you have a working relationship with him and all, but just keep it at that.”
I didn’t say anything.
Krystal said, “So…was it good?”
I sighed. “Best ever.”
She chuckled. “Okay, so you just chalk it up as the best sex ever and move on. Gotta keep moving in this town.”
“Speaking of which, what were you doing all weekend?”
“Oh, God. I met these two guys…” She went on to tell me the story of spending the weekend with two men, complete with the raunchy details of her first threesome.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said.
“Nope.”
“Damn. And here I was thinking you were working and I just kept missing you or something.” It wasn’t really what I thought. How would I have missed her between shifts? I was starting to figure out that Krystal had some kind of wild and quite unique lifestyle. And I was starting to puzzle together that her lifestyle didn’t involve working in a restaurant and going to auditions. But I didn’t want to pry. Not yet, anyway.
We didn’t talk any more about it for the rest of the week. I only saw her on Wednesday night, anyway, and just for a few minutes as I was heading off to bed when she got home.
I called my parents for a few minutes on Tuesday to let them know I was doing better, working, and everything else was going fine. Grace happened to be there when I called and we talked for a few minutes.
She lowered her voice at one point and said, “I ran into Chris at the gas station.”
Hearing his name sent a shiver down my spine and brought back the imagery of the dream I’d had over the weekend.
“I don’t even want to know.”
“Well,” she said, “he wanted to know about you.”
“What did you tell him?”
There was a pause. Total silence.
“Grace? What did you tell him?” I asked, a stern tone in my words.
“I told him you moved to California.”
“Uh huh. And?”
I heard a door close, and then it sounded like wind wooshing across the phone. She’d gone outside to get out of earshot of our parents.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it was stupid. I just wanted him to know that you were doing fine, and even better, without him. I wanted to make him feel like crap.”
I gritted my teeth.
I ended up not seeing her for the rest of the weekend. I texted her a few times, but got no response. I knew I couldn’t call Grace and tell her everything. And when Sunday rolled around—the day I always called my parents and checked in—I didn’t feel like talking to them. I sent an email instead, feigning a cold with a sore throat, and apologizing for not being able to talk. My dad wrote back within thirty minutes, relaying my mom’s best home remedy for a sore throat. I felt bad for lying to them, but I just couldn’t talk to them right then. I had no choice.
I spent the weekend alone, watching things I’d put in my Netflix queue.
In a way, I both dreaded and looked forward to Monday morning equally. I knew I couldn’t skip work, no matter how badly I wanted to avoid looking like something was wrong and having Kevin ask me about it. The flipside of the coin was that I’d have something aside from streaming movies to focus on, and not think about how stupid I’d been to go that far with Max.
Kevin called shortly after I opened the office and told me he’d be out all day. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could ease back into my work for a day.
I finally got in touch with Krystal when eating my lunch salad at my desk.
“How was your weekend?” she asked.
“Okay.”
“What happened with Max?”
The floodgates opened and I told her the whole story.
When I was finished she said, “What an ass! See, this is what I was telling you to be ready for.”
“I know, I know.” I didn’t want a lecture.
“And he didn’t call you all weekend?”
“Nope.”
“Ah, forget him,” she said. “I know you have a working relationship with him and all, but just keep it at that.”
I didn’t say anything.
Krystal said, “So…was it good?”
I sighed. “Best ever.”
She chuckled. “Okay, so you just chalk it up as the best sex ever and move on. Gotta keep moving in this town.”
“Speaking of which, what were you doing all weekend?”
“Oh, God. I met these two guys…” She went on to tell me the story of spending the weekend with two men, complete with the raunchy details of her first threesome.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said.
“Nope.”
“Damn. And here I was thinking you were working and I just kept missing you or something.” It wasn’t really what I thought. How would I have missed her between shifts? I was starting to figure out that Krystal had some kind of wild and quite unique lifestyle. And I was starting to puzzle together that her lifestyle didn’t involve working in a restaurant and going to auditions. But I didn’t want to pry. Not yet, anyway.
We didn’t talk any more about it for the rest of the week. I only saw her on Wednesday night, anyway, and just for a few minutes as I was heading off to bed when she got home.
I called my parents for a few minutes on Tuesday to let them know I was doing better, working, and everything else was going fine. Grace happened to be there when I called and we talked for a few minutes.
She lowered her voice at one point and said, “I ran into Chris at the gas station.”
Hearing his name sent a shiver down my spine and brought back the imagery of the dream I’d had over the weekend.
“I don’t even want to know.”
“Well,” she said, “he wanted to know about you.”
“What did you tell him?”
There was a pause. Total silence.
“Grace? What did you tell him?” I asked, a stern tone in my words.
“I told him you moved to California.”
“Uh huh. And?”
I heard a door close, and then it sounded like wind wooshing across the phone. She’d gone outside to get out of earshot of our parents.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it was stupid. I just wanted him to know that you were doing fine, and even better, without him. I wanted to make him feel like crap.”
I gritted my teeth.
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