Page 15 of Not My Friend
“How do you know?” I asked curiously.
“My dad was a cheater. I recognize the signs.”
She gave me a look across the table that I couldn’t interpret.
“I’m the one that busted him. I saw him at a movie theater once. I was with my friends, and he had his arm around this womanwho wasn’t my mom. When he kissed her I ran home and told my mom everything. She’d had her suspicions, but once she knew for sure, she kicked his ass to the curb. Like she should have.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful. Your poor mom.”
“Then he had the nerve to fight her for custody of me and my siblings. Luckily, I was old enough that the court had to consider what I wanted, which was to avoid spending time with my dad. Mom got custody, but we had to spend one weekend a month and two weeks during the summer break with him.”
“But your mom was okay?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, she met my stepfather a couple of years later and he treats her like a princess. He’s a great guy, and he’s always treated me and my siblings better than my dad ever did.”
The couple next to us leaned across the table to exchange a kiss, and Kimberly made a sound of disgust. “I fucking hate cheaters.”
Kimberly
Iwas having so much fun with Gina that I didn’t realize what time it was until I got up to use the restroom. As I slid out of the booth, I pulled out my phone to check for messages and gasped in surprise.
“Oh my God, it’s after eleven.”
We’d been there for three hours, nibbling on the enormous amount of fries we’d ordered – it turns out we really could have shared one basket of them – and making our way through a second beer. The conversation had flowed easily, much easier than I would have expected, and somehow I felt like I’d learned more about Gina in one three hour dinner than I had in six months of dating.
Maybe she was more open now, maybe I was, or maybe our shared history made it easier for us to share with each other. Whatever it was, it had been nice. That was the best word for it.
When I got back to the table, Gina had already paid the check.
“Let me give you some money,” I said right away. “I didn’t mean for you to pay.”
She gave me an impish grin. “Oh, so you didn’t go to the bathroom as part of a plan to make me pay the bill?”
“Definitely not,” I laughed.
“It’s fine, really. Buying you dinner is the least I can do. Let me just use the restroom too, then we can walk back to the office.”
We’d both left our cars in the nonprofit’s parking lot, so we walked along the quiet streets to Gina’s office, still talking. As we walked, our shoulders brushed against each other, and every touch made my body tingle with an awareness that had been growing inside me all day.
“This is me,” Gina said, stopping by what I realized was the same Camry she’d had when we were dating. It had been old back then.
“I can’t believe you still have this car. It’s almost as old as you are!”
She patted the roof affectionately. “Old Callie the Camry is still running like a dream, aren’t you baby?”
I’d forgotten the way she’d named her car and spoke to it like it was human in the hope that the car would be ‘good’ to her. Then again, her methods seemed to work.
“Still crazy, I see,” I teased.
She turned back towards me and bumped her shoulder against mine as she noticed the car parked one row over in the otherwise empty lot.
“At least I’m not driving a Tesla.”
“Hey, I bought that car back when it was still cool to own one, before everything else happened,” I protested. “Although I’m not sorry when I see how high gas prices are right now.”
She winced. “Yeah. Well, I guess I’d better--.”
The words died in her throat as she noticed how close we were standing to each other. She’d parked directly under a light, and I could see the question on her face. Some hair had fallen out of her ponytail as we’d walked back from the bar, and without meaning to, I lifted my hand to slide it back behind her ear.
