Forget You, Ethan

  I took out my phone and tried to stay focused on the favor at hand. The Teresa girl.

  As I texted her number, I tried to convince myself that the feeling in my chest when Rachel mentioned Brett Gallagher wasn’t jealousy. It couldn’t be.

  She’s still the girl next door I hated...Nothing more. Nothing less...

  Back Then: 16 Years Old

  Ethan

  SUBJECT: TODAY’S RIDE.

  Dear Ethan,

  I won’t need a ride home after school today. I’m getting a ride with my new boyfriend.

  Forget you,

  Rachel

  PS—I didn’t vote for you for Mr. Popular.

  SUBJECT: RE: TODAY’S Ride.

  Dear Rachel,

  Seeing as today is April Fool’s Day, I’m not sure whether to take this joke of an email seriously or not. I’ll wait for you at the car for five minutes.

  If you’re not there by then, I’m leaving.

  Forget You,

  Ethan

  PS—Thanks for letting me know. The teachers were wondering who cast the lone ballot in the other guy’s box...

  RACHEL NEVER SHOWED up to my car, so I assumed she wasn’t lying about having a boyfriend. I was also sure it wouldn’t last too long. The first two guys she’d attempted to date dumped her because she refused to “dress like all the other girls” whenever they hung out, and she refused to comb the mop that she called her hair more than three times a week.

  Heading home, I went upstairs to my room and texted my newest girlfriend, Chelsea.

  Me: Hey. What are you up to?

  Chelsea: Getting my nails done with Sarah. (Ugh. Her new hair is so gross) What’s up?

  Me: I was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch the new horror series tonight.

  Chelsea: LOL No. I’d rather you take me to dinner...Can you come pick me up in a few hours?

  I didn’t text her back. We’d only been dating for a few weeks, and all she ever wanted to do was go to dinner (spend my allowance money), and gossip about her friends. She never did anything that I wanted to do, and I’d already told her that horror series and movies were a big deal to me.

  Her response? “Aren’t horror movies whack?”

  I took out my notebook and started writing a plan to dump her next week.

  I was tempted to go next door and ask Rachel if she was going to watch the horror series tonight, but when I looked up, I saw Glen Easton through her window.

  He was sitting at her desk, giving her a smile I’d seen him give to tons of other girls at our school before.

  Even though Rachel was lame as hell, she could do better—way better, than Glen Easton.

  Last week, he’d bragged to all the guys in gym class about how he’d fucked Taylor Redding and how he was going to “bang another virgin this month.”

  I highly doubted Rachel had ever had sex. She still rolled her eyes whenever I begrudgingly told her about my escapades (only because my guy friends weren’t available), and even though I hated her, I didn’t think Glen should be her first.

  Her second? Maybe.

  Her first? Not a chance.

  I made sure my blinds were completely closed and decided I wouldn’t say anything unless I thought Rachel would try to go all the way.

  I watched Glen run his fingers through her hair. She laughed as he tried to touch her, and I finally accepted that she would forever be lame, until she leaned forward and kissed him.

  Glen slid his hands under her shirt as he caressed her chest, and she was smiling against his mouth.

  I suddenly felt angry and I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t want Rachel—at all, so I figured that the feeling in my chest was anger from Rachel showing my mom where Brody had hid his cigarettes in my room last week.

  It’s definitely that...

  I spotted her mother’s car in the driveway and decided to do what any “concerned” friend would do.

  Me: Hello, Mrs. Dawson. I’m across the street and I heard a loud scream coming from Rachel’s room. Is she okay? I know she has those stomach pains every month...

  Mrs. Dawson: Such a good neighbor, Ethan! I’ll go upstairs and check on her. Thanks!

  It took all of ten seconds for me to hear the aftermath. Rachel’s mom had the loudest set of lungs on the block, and I didn’t have to lean against my window to hear every single word.

  “Sneaking a boy into your room, Rachel Marie Dawson? Are you out of your mind! You are grounded! Indefinitely!”

  A part of me almost felt bad for snitching.

  Until I saw her mom pulling a pack of condoms from a drawer.

  She was really going to have sex with him?

  Her mom’s yelling went on for two hours, and it was so harsh and brutal that it made me never want to sneak another girl into my room...

  LATER THAT NIGHT, RACHEL glared at me from her window—holding up “Fuck You, Ethan!” on her whiteboard each time I happened to look her way.

  I was about to ask why she couldn’t just turn on her TV for the horror series and leave me alone, but I noticed her flat screen was gone. That her mother had taken it in the grounding aftermath.

  Sighing, I let up my window and pushed my TV as close to the edge as possible.

  Rachel looked up from her desk—still glaring at me, but a faint smile crossed her lips. I turned up the volume as high as it could go and watched as she picked up the paper cup that was on her side of our makeshift phone line from years ago.

  “Ethan?” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you tilt the screen a little bit more?”

  I obliged, pushing it out a bit further.

  “Thank you.” She opened a bag of chips. “Oh, and Ethan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I fucking hate you.”

  Track 10. Style (3:59)

  Rachel

  THERE WERE A FEW THINGS I’d always looked forward to about having my first real date on campus, a specific list of “shit I definitely need” that was inspired from all my favorite love stories. I knew most of the things by heart, but the moment I was asked out, I made sure to pull out my list and reread the top three.

  Shit I Definitely Need on my First Real Date:

  (Fuck what Ethan said about this being unrealistic. He doesn’t know anything.)

  1. A CONVERSATION THAT I never want to end (Preferably one about books, but I’ll settle for one about art, our dreams, or things we love to do)

  2. A great location that I will always remember. Bonus points if this location is under the stars, somewhere along a private beach, or at a five-star restaurant.

  3. A soul searing kiss that seals the night and leaves my mind spinning with thoughts about endless possibilities. (Plus, butterflies. There need to be some goddamn butterflies.)

  SO FAR, TONIGHT, MY list was looking unrealistic as shit, and I was batting zero.

  Brett Gallagher was definitely attractive as hell, and after talking on the phone with him every night this week and laughing at all the things we had in common, I was hoping for butterflies or sparks when he picked me up in his car.

  It’d been an hour and I was still waiting.

  I didn’t feel anything when he smiled and complimented me, and I was still trying to figure out why the hell he thought a pizza bar was the perfect place for a date. Not only that, but he was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, as if he’d rolled out of bed seconds before picking me up.

  I can’t believe I wasted half of my day getting ready for this...

  “I kind of feel like I should’ve dressed up more for you,” Brett said, smiling. “You look great, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” I forced a smile. “Are we just getting a bite to eat here and then heading out for the rest of the date?”

  He laughed. “No, this is the date. I personally think its best if we get to know each other in a place like this since this is more affordable for me.” He smiled and winked at me. “You’re not a gold-digger, are you?”

  I held back
a sigh and smoothed my hands over my grey dress. “Not at all.”

  “What can I get you two tonight?” The waiter stepped in front of our table. “We have four new pizza combos and three specialty drinks if you’re interested.”

  “We’ll have the samples,” Brett answered before I could. “With water. Large cups of water.”

  The waiter rolled his eyes and quickly returned with our water and a box of miniature pizza slices.

  “I don’t know why people come here and pay for their pizza,” he said. “The samples are free, and you can get full with two orders of those. Well, we’ll probably need three since we’re sharing, but they don’t limit the samples at all.”

  He pulled out five miniature slices for himself and slid the box toward me.

  There was only one slice left.

  “So, in the car, you were telling me something about loving to draw,” he said. “Are you an Art major?”

  “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to be an artist.”

  “Sounds cool.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, to say or ask me something else, but it never came. Instead, he devoured his first few slices—smacking loudly as he swallowed them.

  “Do you want to eat the pizza outside on their patio?” I suggested, wanting to salvage this night. “I think our conversation may be better out there.”

  “It’ll be better when we’re back at my place watching Netflix,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Let me find something to set the mood before we get there. We can even vote on it.”

  “Right...” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Will you excuse me for a second? I need to run to the restroom.”

  “No problem. It’s in the back, on the left.”

  I stood up and made my way down the hall, shutting myself into the first stall. For this “date,” I’d had my hair pinned up in curls at a Main Street salon, splurged on a manicure and pedicure, and bought new nude stilettos to complement my thigh-length grey dress.

  I debated texting Ethan, asking him if he thought I should leave, but I didn’t want to get too comfortable with our temporary friendship. I texted Penelope instead.

  Me: Hey...I’m on a date right now and need some advice.

  Penelope: Yes, you should make him wear a condom.

  Me: That’s not it LOL...We were supposed to go on a date, and we are...But he brought me to a pizza bar...

  Penelope: Which pizza bar?

  Me: O’Malley’s. The one with the free samples...Is that normal?

  Penelope: Depends. He may be in between paychecks and may take you out for a real date next time. It’s only a deal-breaker if he’s a cheap-ass (only gets the samples) and mentions going back to his place to watch Netflix.

  Me: He did mention going back to his place to watch Netflix.

  Penelope: Get the hell out of there. Now. (PS—That Ryan guy you’ve been grabbing coffee with in between your art classes seems like more of your type...Just date him for a while.)

  I stepped out of the stall and looked myself over one last time before stepping out of the bathroom. When I opened the door, Brett was standing in the hallway, looking wide-eyed and panicked.

  “Um, Brett?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah, I need you to stay in there for a little while.” He looked over his shoulder. “Until I tell you it’s okay to leave.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Stay in the bathroom, Rachel.” He motioned for me to go back inside. “I need you to go in there for a second. I don’t want my ex to know that you were with me here.”

  I blinked. “You said that you were single.”

  “We’re on a break,” he said, shaking his head. “We still hang out from time to time, but we haven’t officially given the green light to date other people yet.”

  “So, why did you ask me out in the first place?”

  “Seriously?” He looked me up and down. “Why do you think?”

  A waiter squeezed past us, and he looked over his shoulder again.

  “Shit...” He placed his hands on my shoulders, pushing me into the bathroom. Then he poked his head through the door. “Stay in here!”

  What the fuck?

  I opened the door slightly, debating how the hell I should handle this, and I saw him locking lips with a blonde at our table. She smiled against his mouth, and he squeezed her ass.

  He ran his fingers through her hair, and I felt myself getting hot. Felt myself wanting to step out of the room and tell him how big of an asshole he was for getting my hopes up this week. I took a deep breath and prepared to yell at him for ruining things, but I suddenly heard Ethan’s voice in my head.

  “You’re so in love with the idea of being in love that you’ll fall for damn near anyone...”

  I sighed and watched as Brett and his “break” kissed for several more minutes. When he finally pulled away from her, she walked over to the bar.

  I crossed my arms, waiting for him to come my way and apologize, but he didn’t. He didn’t look my way at all.

  Annoyed, I stepped out of the bathroom and walked to his table—right as his girlfriend returned. I picked up my water and took a long sip. “Thank you so much for tonight’s date, Brett. I had a really good time.” I looked at his girlfriend. “He told me he was single.”

  I walked away, not staying around for the aftermath.

  I walked straight into the bar next door, ordering four shots and knocking them down back to back. I sipped a Long Island Iced Tea, slurped a huge margarita, and topped it all off with a couple of Amaretto Sour drinks before the bartender told me I had to wait a while to order anything else.

  Not wanting to wait, I stood up and made my way outside. As luck would have it, a slight drizzle was falling. As it always seemed to do on my shitty days.

  Not caring, I headed toward The Umbrellas.

  “I thought you were supposed to be on a date tonight, Rachel,” a familiar deep voice said, making me look to my left.

  I turned around and saw Ethan sitting in his car. His blue eyes were gleaming under his roof’s low lights, and a sexy smile formed on his lips as he looked me over.

  “You were supposed to be on a date as well,” I said finally, feeling a sudden and intense bout of butterflies.

  “I was,” he said. “I just got back from taking her home. You want a ride?”

  I stood still as the rain fell a bit harder. I wasn’t sure how to handle this. Every time me and Ethan were around each other in the past, there were no sparks whatsoever. Just a mutual hatred that occasionally gave way to a truce long enough for us to get through the rest of the day. But lately, whatever was between us was definitely not hatred. That, and I was spending far too many of my nights fantasizing about his lips on top of mine with my vibrator in hand.

  “Rachel?” His deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Get in the goddamn car.”

  I opened the door and slipped inside.

  “Here.” He grabbed a few beach towels from the backseat and handed them to me before pulling off onto the street.

  We didn’t speak as he drove, and when we made it past the exit that led into our neighborhood, we found ourselves in the middle of stop and go traffic. The rain tap-danced on his roof for several minutes, and then he pulled over into the emergency lane.

  “Construction hours end in twenty,” he said. “Makes no sense to attempt to get through this right now.”

  I nodded, feeling tipsy. “Yep...”

  “Where did Brett take you on your date?” he asked, putting the car in park.

  “I would tell you, but I’d hate to make you jealous.”

  “I’d have to be interested in you to be jealous, Rachel.” He let out a low laugh. “Tell me where he took you.”

  “Multiple places,” I said. “First, he took me to the carnival at the pier, and we played a few games and ate lots of food. Then he took me for a walk on the beach where we shared the most amazing kiss, and then he took me to try something new at a private rest
aurant. Oh, and at the end, he treated me to a long and dirty, passionate kiss where he put all other men’s words and tongues to shame.”

  “He did all of that within one hour?” He smirked.

  “Yes. He was very efficient.”

  He gave me a blank stare.

  “Okay, fine. Brett took me out for free pizza and water. If that wasn’t bad enough, his girlfriend showed up, so he shoved me into the bathroom.”

  “Interesting.” He laughed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Are you really?”

  “Not at all.”

  “How was your date with Teresa?”

  “Far better than yours,” he said. “I took her to dinner at Rosie’s.”

  “The five-star restaurant near the pier?”

  “The very same,” he said, smiling. “They don’t serve free samples there.”

  I rolled my eyes, feeling a slight pang of jealousy. “Does she believe that you’re really interested in her?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “I’m breaking things off after the senior lodge trip. Are you still going?”

  I nodded. “I’ll just go with Ryan from my art class since we seem to get along. He’s pretty cute, and he’s a perfect date and gentleman. Unlike someone I know.”

  “You and I have never dated.”

  “And we never will.”

  “After all the expectations you had for the guys you dated on the ship, I’ll count that as a blessing.”

  “You know what?” I turned to face him, feeling liquor running through my veins. “I made like half of those things up, Ethan.”

  “You did what?”

  “Don’t act surprised,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt as the traffic line became longer. “I may have creatively or purposely lied about some of those guys.”

  He turned off his car. “I’m beyond surprised...How much of it was made up?”

  “Not the parts you’re thinking about,” I said. “All the good stuff was real. Like, kisses against the pier from the guy whose looks put you to shame. Well, not now, because you’re sexy as hell these days and if I didn’t hate you, I’d consider fucking you. Also, the sex on the deck that you wish you would’ve had. It was better than your best nights here, I’m sure. And most of the dates were real.”