A Girl's Guide to Being Jilted | ✓

09 | In Which Pancakes Are Involved

1 new message from Antonio.

1 new message from Antonio.

I had been staring at the words all night and now they were all I saw as I closed my eyes.

Sleep was a million miles away. I tossed and turned all night as I wondered about the contents of the text.

My past experience with this had taught me that whatever was in it was going to rock the very uncertain boat my emotions were currently balanced on. So now I had two options: open it and quench the mystery or delete it and save myself more heartbreak.

I was battling with what to do when a call came in.

My heart leaped inside my chest as I crawled away from the device lying face down on my bed.

My jazz ringtone continued but I did nothing but stare at the rainbow phone case.

What if it’s Antonio? God, please, not this early morning.

As I pondered the question I realized that I wasn’t dreading what excuse he would give me, I was dreading my anger and hate dissipating as soon as I heard his voice. Right now those two emotions were the only things keeping me from being the empty husk that I knew I was deep down.

Gathering courage by reminding myself of what I had to go through these past few days, I picked up the phone and discovered that I needn’t have worried so much.

It was only Matty. I had given him my number when I left abruptly last night.

“Morning DeeDee,” Matty’s cheerful voice brought a smile to my face. “How are you? How’s the headache?”

I had lied about having a migraine as an excuse to ditch my friends after getting the text from the devil himself. Given that I had spent most of my life being sick it wasn't hard to feign.

“Oh, it’s gone now. I got some rest and poof!” I gave a nervous chuckle and opened the only window in my bedroom. The hazy shape of Matty’s house was visible through the gray light of dawn as it stood just a few feet away behind the pink fence that separated my backyard from his.

Matty’s bedroom window faced mine and as I looked inside it was dark, making me wonder what he was up to so early.

Kneeling here on my bed, peering into Matty's house brought back memories of climbing down the ladder, hopping over the fence and slithering into my best friend’s house in the middle of the night.

As I thought back to my escapades as a child I was more and more thankful we didn’t live in someplace like Texas where I would be welcomed with a shotgun as I entered another person’s house in the dead of night.

“DeeDee, are you ok?” Matty’s voice pulled me out of my reverie. “You sound a little . . . off.”

I exhaled. I didn’t want to lie to Matty but I couldn’t exactly come out with the truth.

Something told me I just got a text from my ex whom I’m convinced is the overlord of hell and I’m not sure what to expect since it’s the same guy that looked into my eyes and promised he’d never leave me was not the best way to start an early morning conversation with someone as jovial as Matty.

“Of course I’m fine, I just . . .” I hesitated. “Are you home? I’m looking at your window right now and I’d like to come over. Please.”

I heard Matty hesitate and I tried to push away the frustration that reared its head.

“I wish you could, Dee, but I moved out years ago. I don’t live across from you anymore.”

Tears pricked the back of my eyes and soon Matty’s house was a blurry blob in front of me.