How Very Ironic

“I’ve got a really big favor to ask of you,” he said, plopping down next to Kendra. Her eyes slowly moved to him and then back to the air in front of her. She took another drag of her cigarette and said, “I’m listening.”

He took in a deep breath, and wiped his sweaty palms on his dark jeans.

“Would you ask Gina Hallas if she likes me? And if she said yes, would you maybe ask her out for me?” Kendra blinked, and then threw her smoke down onto the ground and smashed it.

“Hell no,” she said sharply, turning to look at him. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to ask me that.” She breathed in the lingering smell of her cancer sticks and the recent rain while trying to calm herself down. She could hear Evan sighing but didn’t give half a shit about him.

“God, Kendra, why won’t you just do this one thing for me? Do you know how much I do for you?”

“Oh, very mature, the guilt trip. Well, Evan, let me tell you: it isn’t going to work, okay? I have practically no fucking conscience, so don’t even bother.” She stood up, so he did too.

“Why don’t you want to do it? Don’t you want me to be happy?” He was shouting at her. He knew she hated yelling, too.

“Shut up, Evan!” Kendra screeched, her shrill voice turning him into a dear in the headlights. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but she continued, “You know I’m selfish, I know I’m selfish. And I do want you to be happy; I just want you to be happy with me.”

“Kenny,” he began but she shook her head and spoke again while pulling out another cigarette.

“Save it. I love you, whatever. I have to go to rehearsals anyway. Call me when you aren’t being a douche and you’re man enough to admit you love me too, all right?” She lit it and went on her way down the street, her high-heeled boots clicking with every step.

As the sound grew fainter and fainter, Evan couldn’t help but feel like more and more of a loser. Yeah, he loved Kendra, but he couldn’t be with her. That would screw it all up, everything they had.

Well, it would screw it up more.