The Way We Talk

"So, Lucky Ricky, eh?"

I lean back against the couch and close my Psychology book. "I was under the impression that you were working on a sheet of key words for chapter four."

He shakes his head, typing something. I'm seriously better off studying by myself at this rate. "Taking a twitter break. Realized that we've been friends for almost two months and we still don't follow each other."

"What a crime," I respond dryly, then swat him with my book, "And now that you are following me, can you go back to the study guide?"

"Nope," he replies with that stupid, shit-eating grin that he adopts whenever he really wants to annoy me, "I have to tweetreply you now."

I slap a palm to my forehead and open my book again. If Christian is refusing to be productive, I should at least be.

"You never answered my question."

I stop typing mid-word and sigh. "Lucky Ricky's an old nickname from high school. Dave made it up awhile back and it just stuck."

Christian whistles. "Dave, as in Dave the ex-boyfriend that you casually mention in conversation but never really talk about?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, it's that Dave."

He puts his Macbook on the coffee table then drapes his arm on the couch behind me. "Was the break really that bad?"

I snort. If he really wants to know, then I'll just say it. I've tap-danced around it long enough. "No, because being cheated on was just the cherry on top of a summer of being routinely ignored."

He grimaces, squeezing my shoulder. "Ouch. You don't have to talk about him if you don't want to then."

I shrug. "Meh, I'm over it, really. I'm more pissed off that he came onto me at Katy's party. It's like, you lose the right to beg for me to take you back once you've stuck your penis inside another girl while I was still your girlfriend."

"Wow. That's fucking low. Like, I'm not going to be a hypocrite and pretend like I've never cheated on a girlfriend before. But I didn't exactly beg Suzie to take me back after she caught me making out with Becky Mitchell behind the bleachers at the Homecoming game sophomore year."

I giggle at Christian's random confession. He's good at that - saying things that make me laugh even when I'm pissed, that is. "You're such a moron, Climer."

"Hey, I have to impress you somehow." He's absolutely ridiculous, I swear. "You know I only have eyes for you, Ric," he responds softly, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear and grinning that stupid smile.

I'm going to pretend that my heart didn't flip-flop nearly out of my chest at that. From an outside perspective, this sounds like he's hitting on me, but he's just being Christian. It's funny, really - he's the biggest flirt ever and still manages to be whipped as all hell by his girlfriend.

"Don't let Maria hear that. The girl hates me enough as is."

Christian's hand drops from running a thumb over my jaw and he frowns. "Maria doesn't hate you," I shoot him a knowing look at that, to which he adds unconvincingly, "She greatly dislikes you."

I shake my head and chuckle at his terrible attempt to defend his girlfriend. "Which is a horrible euphemism for 'she hates your fucking guts'."

He shrugs. "She just doesn't know you like I know you, and she's being stubborn about getting to know you. Honestly, you two will be inseparable if it's the last thing I do."

"Try superglue," I suggest sarcastically, pushing aside my own Macbook and resting my feet on the coffee table.

He sighs, getting off the couch. "I'm serious, Erica. You two really aren't that different. And it's not like you've been particularly open to her either."

I scoff at this. "Excuse me? I'm pretty sure it was her that declined my Facebook friend request, then oh-so politely told me to fuck off. I'm pretty sure that's grounds not to continue being nice as can fucking be."

"That's just Maria being Maria," he defends, as usual. Why does he always have a fucking excuse for every one of her flaws? "She gets jealous sometimes. You just have to perserve."

"So I'm supposed to take every word she says like a fuckin' man or something?"

He shrugs cooly, a contrast to his angry tone. "You can't just be mature and do this for me, Erica?"

I close my laptop and it in my totebag along with with book. "You know what, I'm not having this argument right now. Email me the notes on your chapters, okay?"

"Works for me," he replies in the same bitter tone, not bothering to stop me.

I throw my tote over my shoulder and exit the dorm. I pull my cell out of my pocket, then hit eight.

"Hey Ava? You know how I said I couldn't make dinner tonight? Change of plans. Six-thirty at ABP?"

--

"I think me and Christian just had a fight," I announce as I sit down at a table at Au Bon Pain with Ava and Chelsea.

Chelsea gives me an odd look from across the table. "You think you had a fight? You either did or you didn't."

Ava pinches her arm in response. "Don't be mean," she hisses, then grins compassionately at me, "What's wrong, hun?"

"We were just screwing around and being stupid in his dorm and then suddenly he's like 'you need to give Maria a chance because she's just a little jealous and you aren't even trying to be nice to her at the slightest and it's all your fault because you're so immature you stupid freshman and...'" And here come the waterworks. I would have meltdown in the middle of a restaurant.

Ava gets out of her seat to hug me, while Chelsea shakes her head in disbelief. "She sent you a message telling you to get off of Christian's dick and you're the one who needs to grow up? Bullshit."

Ava flinches a bit at Chelsea swearing in a public place, but continues hugging me. Honestly, these girls are my best friends in college. Obviously, Christian's my best guy friend when his head's not so far up his ass, but thes are my girls. Ava's the comforter and Chelsea is the one who knows exactly what to say. "I'm so sorry, hun," Ava assures me, "Honestly, it'll blow over."

I smile tearily at the both of them. "I love you guys."

"And we love you, Erica," Chelsea responds, smiling back at me, "Now, are we going to eat or what? My soup's getting cold."