Ch. 30: When life gives you lemons...

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"'Sup, Mike?"

I shrugged.

"Come on, bro. You've been moping around ever since you finished your tour. What's nagging your ass?"

I turned away and continued scribbling down my thoughts in my notebook, hoping they would create lyrics for a new song. It didn't go very well. My brain was like sticky liquid in a broken bucket, seeping through cracks and holes, and splattered down on the ground. A total waste.

"It's a girl, isn't it?"

"Shut up, Randy."

But of course...

"I knew it! Who is she?"

"Knock it off."

"Brooke?"

"No."

"Tati?"

"God, no. Look, you don't know her."

"Then spill the beans."

I groaned. Why couldn't he just leave me alone with my churning thoughts?

"It doesn't matter. I messed up, okay? That's all you need to know."

"Messed up?"

"Yeah. Big time. And I don't know what to do to get her back."

Randy chuckled and bit his fist, obviously finding my pathetic love life the most intriguing happening of the year.

"Roses? Chocolate? Clothes? Money?"

I shook my head.

"A lil' kitten or a puppy? No girl can resist a puppy."

"I don't think an animal is the right thing. Not right now, at least. She's too busy studying for her master's degree. She also threw out the teddy bear I gave her. Her sister told her friend who... You know what? Nevermind."

I sighed and felt the grey cloud above my head grow darker and bigger.

"A teddy bear? Really? You sent her a teddy bear?"

Custom made in her favorite color, exactly the size of myself, only plumper and softer, I muttered in my head.

"I didn't think you were such a softie. But seriously. She's angry alright. And you my man, are badly pussy whipped."

I almost laughed. That was so tragically true and untrue at the same time. If only things went differently that night, and Gabby wasn't there. If only I had enough logical sense to realize what I was doing, she might be in my arms right now. I could have kissed her like I wanted to and asked her to be my girlfriend, instead of negotiating for just enough forgiveness for her to tolerate that we could talk once in a while. But barely talking was simply not enough for me.

I wanted our friendship back to how it was, and to be able to call her or text her whenever I felt like it. I wanted to meet her again, if only so I could feel the addictive fluttering in my chest whenever I heard her giggle or saw her smile. She was captivating and feisty, yet sensitive, and unfortunately also very insecure of herself, which made me want to work hard to make her see herself through my eyes. To make her see that she was nothing less than drop dead gorgeous. Not to mention; to give her self-esteem enough to let me see more of that edginess I adored.

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