I cracked. I texted Nick:
I don't understand what "it" is, or where this is coming from. But I left my lighter in your car</3
Ok, let's ignore my slight stank of desperation for a second, and let's focus our attention on the idiotic actions of Nicholas William Mackie. Because the next day, when I thought it was impossible for me to hate harder, Nick made it incredibly easy.
Unknown Number 12:00p
Hey whats good...my dude Nick from work gave me ur number n felt that u n I should kick it sometime...my name is fred btw
Are you serious? Am I a prostitute because clearly I failed to get the memo. Can you imagine the conversation between the two of them while they were on their lunch break?
"Man, I need some pussy" -Fred
"Oh, I just dumped this whore! Here's her number--she's so easy." -Nick
What the hell is Nick thinking? "Let's run a train on this stank"? What did I do to make him view me so poorly? I've never hated this hard.
And the saddest piece to this puzzling series of events? I had hope. I convinced myself that my feelings were completely mutual. That in a day or two Nick would call me, or text me just to say he missed me. And not that things would return to the way they used to be--just that we would remain in each others lives.