Ugh… Issy thought as she pulled out her phone and read the caller ID.
“It’s him,” she explained, “again.”
“What does he want? It’s been what, seven, eight months? Doesn’t he get it yet?” Caitlyn questioned.
“I guess not.
Issy ignored the call and looked across the coffee shop to where she first made eye contact with Henry. It had been three years this coming February. Ironically, she and Caitlyn had been at the same table with the same drinks planning Issy’s next adventure.
“Are you going to answer it?” Caitlyn snapped.
“Of course not!” Issy said with more bite than she meant to, “I haven’t spoken to him since May. It’s January, what would we even talk about?”
Not that they had ever really talked that much. In the beginning the conversations were focused on the details of their carnal meetings, but somewhere in the moments between meetings, they had become something akin to friends.
The music they loved, Squeeze would always be better than My Morning Jacket, but neither could argue that Kashmir was the best Zeppelin song. She had taught Joker how to sit and stay when Henry had first gotten the beautiful blue-eyed Pitbull. If only she had been able to teach Henry, the same manners. Not like, Issy had been expecting a parade named in her honor to celebrate her trying to have a functional relationship, but she hadn’t expected Henry to freak out the way he had either.
They had always been clear about what this was or wasn’t. At its least, it was primitive, sex borne from age old lust and instinct. At its most it was a casual friendship. Not the kind you hearken to for stability in a storm or an uplifting wind in your sails. The kind you send book recommendations and new album drops too. Maybe you share one of your cousin’s streaming passwords in return for one of their own.
After Issy had managed to single handedly ruin the relationship, Henry had stated his own experiments in dating. Instead of asking for a password, Henry was relentless in begging for Issy’s “perfect pussy” among a hundred other inappropriate things. Because that was most certainly the way to encourage someone to date you.
Issy’s eyes rolled, sending Caitlyn into a fit of giggles. “Oh, the memories I’m so glad I don’t have,” she commented when her laughter had petered out.
“From the second my front tires crossed back into this state he has called me four times? Six?”
“You’ve only been back three days, Is.”
“I know. I know. . . maybe a month home once a year is too much? Come on,” Issy said as she reached for her keys. “Even this many years later, this scene is too close for comfort.” Both she and Caitlyn grimaced at the high school jock sitting where Henry had all those years ago, tried with glaring desperation to get one of the cheerleaders to warm his lap.
“It’s not even cold in here,” Caitlyn commented. “Outside, yes. But it’s a coffee shop, not an ice hotel.”
They walked side by side into the vestibule, already onto the subject of their high school experiences with jocks from various sports. Caitlyn’s large black iced tea with one Splenda rattled as Issy shoulder checked her. The vibration of her phone making Issy feel as though she were experiencing the world’s softest earthquake.
“Ow, sorry! Why’d you stop?”
Caitlyn spun on her heel, the sound of ice thrashing as she composed herself.
“Well, ahhh. . .”
Issy leaned forward to the tips of her toes, her eyes just reaching over Caitlyn’s shoulders to see the black sports car parked in the row behind hers. As she returned to her regular height, she unlocked her phone. There in the messages. One text. From Henry.
Yo
It wasn’t like this was the only time he’d shown up where she was after he had sent her a text or had tried to reach her after she had been venting about him. Like a lovesick bat-bitten St. Bernard.
Whatever he had to say didn’t matter. She couldn’t respond if she didn’t hear it. She couldn’t hear it if she didn’t answer. As long as his pocket of buffoons kept close to him, he wouldn’t approach her first. It would be human and therefor unlike the lot.
Caitlyn’s forehead creased. Before any kind of encouragement could bubble to the surface and spew all over them and the hallway, Issy lifted her chin and gave a sharp nod.
“Don’t even see what you’re looking at,” she said with more fierceness than she felt.
Caitlyn continued forward and held the door open. With her chin parallel to the beat-up parking lot, Issy’s eyes locked into the headlights of Lucy, her soft blue colored Sebring. Letting out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding, Caitlyn coughed as Issy reached for the center console.
“You remember that this is a non-smoking trip, correct?” Caitlyn said.
Issy loved Caitlyn, but sometimes she wanted to smack her in the face, in the nicest way possible, of course.
“Yes. I remember” Issy whinged.