My Escapade

As soon as I walked into work, Ethan pounced on me. “Well? How did it go? What happened? Did you adhere to my rules?”

“Good; we talked; yes.” I walked past him and set my stuff down on my desk.

“So you kissed?”

I rolled my eyes. “I did say that I followed your rules, did I not?”

“Did you like it?”

“No,” I lied. “Of course not. He’s just some stupid guy.”

Ethan peered at me as I went through my papers. I felt his stare and caught a shiver.

I hate people staring at me.

“What?” I finally demanded.

“You liked it.”

“Nu-uh.”

“You liked it.”

“Nope.”

“Admit it, Ro, you liked it. You like him!” he exclaimed.

I turned to face him, and made sure my façade had yet to break. Check. “No, Ethan, I do not.”

Ethan stared at me.

I stared back.

God. I hate this.

I felt my fingers quiver.

I hate staring contests.

I looked down and kicked myself mentally.

“Aha!” Ethan jabbed a finger at me. “You like—”

“Shush,” I whispered, and slapped his hand away. “This would be so bad for the article.”

Ethan blinked. “Well, what if, instead of dumping him and breaking his heart, you stay with him?”

I snorted. “God, Ethan, you’re such a girl. Who’d wanna read about that?”

“Girls like you. Who really wanna be with someone but—”

“Shut up.”

Ethan was quiet for a moment, so I took it as an opportunity to sit down and find the pictures that Irene, a quiet girl two cubicles down, needed for her article.

“You know…”

“I probably do, but you’ll tell me anyways.” I sighed.

“You still have to go back out with him, anyways. So it doesn’t matter whether or not you have feelings for him.”

I glowered at him. “Well, I know that.”

Ethan shrugged. “I’m just sayin’. You’ll figure out what to do when you’re nearing the end. You’ll make the right choice, and everything will work out.”

I groaned. “Oh my Lord, Ethan. Have you been reading Liz’s sappy romance novels?”

… that I’ve all borrowed from her at one point or another.

He sighed. “Fine, don’t listen to me. But I’m raising hell at your wedding.”

I slapped his arm. “Aren’t you supposed to be working or something?”

“Or something.” He grinned and left my cubicle, and I sighed in relief.

Ethan is so good at playing Devil’s Advocate.

--

Hey, Alison. I had an amazing time the other night. :) Would you mind going out with me again tomorrow?

I stared at the text. It was from Jaxin, obviously. I tapped my fingers on the desk and tried to think of a response.

Hiya. Yeah, sorry, I can’t do tomorrow. Is Thursday all right with you?

I tapped my foot and waited for his response. Truth be told, I had no plans for the next day, but I needed it to seem like I actually had a life.

Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll pick you up at six.

I had forgotten that he knew where I lived. I tried to think of a nice, yet not clingy response.

Alright, see you then. :D

I put my head down on my desk and muttered, “Fuck my life.”

Ethan, per usual, appeared at the perfect moment. “Talking to lover boy?”

“FML,” was my only response.

“Mmm, set a second date? Ready for the big smooch?”

“No one says smooch anymore.” I lifted my head off my desk and glared at him.

“Smoochy-smooch-smooch.”

I had no response, so I put my head back on my desk and repeated my new favorite mantra—“Fuck my life.”