The Dating Game

FORTY-THREE

Saturday, March 3rd

I've never hated my cell phone more than I have these last few days.

Chase keeps calling me, nonstop for an hour, every other damn hour. Does he not get the hint? He can't win me back. He messed up big time, and I'm not falling back into his trap. He had his fun, accomplished his goal, and now he can put all of this behind him and graduate in two months with some other girl by his side. Maybe she'll get five hundred dollars in exchange for her pride too.

I keep ignoring the calls, but he doesn't seem to get it. I mean, isn't three days of cutting off communication usually enough for people to understand that someone doesn't want to talk to them anymore? And at the very least, was my whole speech not enough for him to understand that, either?

I leave my room to make myself something to eat for lunch, and to get away from the endless phone calls, but my mom is searching frantically for something when I step out into the kitchen.

"You okay?" I ask her, realizing she's missing an earring.

She huffs and presses her palm against her mouth in frustration. "I'm going to be late for work if I don't find this goddamn earring, Michelle."

I quickly scan the room, immediately spotting the missing piece on the window sill by the TV. When I grab it for her, she embraces me with a thank you and tells me she has something to tell me when she gets home from work tonight.

"You can't tell me now?" I ask. "What if I'm asleep when you get home?"

"I have to go, baby, but I promise we'll talk later, okay?"

She closes the door in my face and I roll my eyes, but I know she means every word she says. That's something I'm not too familiar with these days.

A package of ramen meets my eye from the pantry and I get started on a small lunch for myself while Naomi runs into the living room to watch Disney movies. I make her a small serving of mac n cheese, which has been her current favorite food, and she eats happily as Moana plays on the screen. We watch it all the way through together until she asks to watch YouTube instead, so I put it on for her and start washing our dishes. 

After I finish, I check my phone. No more missed calls from Chase since the last one from hours ago. Has he finally given up, or is this just wishful thinking?

"Mickey!" Naomi calls out from the living room, catching my attention. I rush back to her, but when she sees me, she just points to the door. "Someone knockeded on the door."

"Knocked," I correct her as I walk over to the front door. "Someone knocked on the door."

I peer out the peephole, completely appalled by the person on the other side.

"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter under my breath. Naomi hops off the couch and waddles over to me to pull on my shirt and ask me who it is. "It's no one," I tell her, "Go back to watching YouTube."

She frowns at me and for a moment, I'm terrified she's planning to chomp on me again, but she just turns around and stomps back to the couch. She dramatically throws herself onto it, as if that'll make me tell her who's at the door, but all it does is make me roll my eyes.

And then I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes again when I open the door to Chase standing outside with his hands in his pockets and his cheeks flushed.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him as soon as I open it.

"Michelle, I—" he mutters, having nothing to say now that he's facing me. "I—"