The Art of Being a F*ck Up

5. Party Games

Maddy stands in front of me, poised to attack as she waits for an explanation she thinks she deserves. How am I supposed to explain this one though? All I can think is that running into my ex-girlfriend might feel like nothing more than a funny coincidence if I hadn't already just saw my dad. Or if my best friend hadn't unwittingly set me up. Or if she didn't hate my guts completely. Seriously, I'd like to get the odds on this because its seeming more and more like I'm the single most unlucky son of a bitch on the planet. Between her and my dad I wonder who despises me more, it's hard to say when he's been so passive aggressive about it, but she doesn't share his conviction.

"Wait, do you two know each other or something?" With a confused chuckle, Devin looks between us in an effort to decipher the instant hostility. Of all his stupid ideas, he's really fucking outdone himself this time, and while I might actually give him an answer if I could pick my jaw up off the floor, Maddy's much quicker to the draw when she holds up a hand to silence him.

"Speak! Not you. You," she directs her vitriol my way. This isn't my first time seeing her since the breakup, not when we've been attending the same college, but I've made a conscious effort to avoid her all these years. I'm sure it's the same for her, it's no wonder she's so pissed, it's not some closely guarded secret that she still carries a grudge from way back when. That's not my fault—or, I don't know, I guess it is—but I've moved on. She refuses to, "no, let me guess actually, you knew I'd laugh in your face if you came crawling back for help, so you sent your little butt buddy to beg for you. Is that it?"

"Butt buddy?" Devin panics when he's dragged under by her current. "Excuse me—"

"Shut it, Frankenstein!" She snaps at him. He might deserve her frigid glare for getting us into this mess, but I don't. Like, I get that she thinks she's the victim, and okay whatever, she might have a point, but she's always blown things way out of proportion. There's a very good reason we try not to occupy the same airspace, and it's obvious one of us will have to be the adult.

"Devin," I address my terrified best friend, my eyes still locked straight ahead. "Remember all those stories I told you about my ex? You know, the one I dated pretty much through all of high school? Well, meet Madison Locke."

"Simplify history, much? How about your ex that you lied to, cheated on, and then left for another man?" Evidently time hasn't chilled her out any, even though we were on and off for years I'll never get how she can't grasp why things didn't work out between us. After I came out she went around telling everyone she already knew I was gay because I only ever wanted to do anal, which I guess is kind of true, but it always felt like she was more upset about being made to look like a fool than anything else. I've never blamed her for that, I remember how important it was to be popular and perfect in high school too.

"I don't want to do this with you, this whole stupid thing wasn't my idea—I wouldn't have agreed if I'd known." We could argue, if that's what she wants. There are plenty of skeletons I could drag out of the closet too, my infidelity was only one thing on a long list that made our relationship toxic. What would be the point though?

"So what, you're too good for me all of a sudden then?" Her hands slide instinctively onto her hips, and I know the look all too well. There's nothing I can say here that won't piss her off.

"That's not what I said, I just don't want to fight."

"Wouldn't that be a first. How many classes are you failing? Two, three?"

"None of your business." I try hard to resist her current, but she makes it almost impossible.

"Probably more," she smirks. She and I spent a lot of time together before Jonah came along, she knew so much about me once, and while there's no telling how much of that's become lost, she definitely still remembers how to inflict the most damage. "You always were dumber than a bag of wet hair."