Wish We Never Started

3

The next day, my shift goes super slow.

I get the pleasure of seeing Arnold over lunch, who wouldn't stop talking. It was more like mumbling, but I could make out most of what he was saying.

Turns out he wanted to be a funeral director his whole life, but his psychic told him not in this life – in his next one.

Whatever the hell that means.

I leave out the back entrance, watching a mouse skitter across the alley towards the dumpster. I push my hands in the pockets of my coat and turn the corner to walk home. It's already seven and dark outside, the blustery wind not doing any favors. It relentlessly stings my face with each step.

Sofia is continually spamming me with messages that I try to ignore. One comes in, saying how small my penis is (it is not), and how I'll never be able to find another girlfriend (I will).

A fleeting thought of blocking her number crosses my mind, and I decide to act on it. Really, who needs all of this extra drama? She's already cut whatever tie binded us together the second she read the messages and walked out.

Without any shame, I navigate to her number on my phone and choose the option to block it.

With that taken care of, I decide to call Diego. He picks up immediately, which is what I was hoping for.

I know it's the sweet spot in his work day when he starts winding down the shop, rummaging through inventory while getting his ducks in a row for the next day.

His voice comes across the phone quickly with no time for greetings.

"Gabriel! Come over to the thrift shop tonight. We're having a low key thing in the back after close. Bring someone if you want, just please don't bring Sofia."

I let out a loud chuckle. No way on earth would I even think about bringing Sofia, especially now that I've blocked her number.

"Dude, I'm not bringing Sofia. Could you even imagine? Oh, Gabriel, I need $250 for my hair appointment tomorrow. Gabriel, I don't like your shirt. I'm going to go talk to this guy over here."

Diego starts laughing at my impression, "spot on, really."

His laugh reminds me of the other day with Sadie. For a moment, I want to tell him about it, but I bite my tongue.

"If you come tonight, I'll shave your hair the way I told you about."

I hear Diego's tagging gun going in the background. It's from like 1970 so it almost sounds like an actual gun each time it pierces a price tag.

"Yeah, I'll be there. You can shave my head," I tell him.

I know this will cause him an extreme amount of delight. Diego is caring, chill, supportive, and every other good quality you can have in a best friend. He thrives when he's caring for everyone he loves. 

I will never regret asking him what the hell his order is from Eggroll Extravaganza 2 years ago and why it's taking so long and backing up all of the other orders. I had no idea he would mean so much to me now. That was the first night in my new apartment – not even twenty four hours since arriving from San Francisco. It was almost like it was fate.

"I love you, bro. See you at eight," Diego says quickly.

I hang up and stop in front of my apartment complex before walking in. My eyes travel up the cement building, my head almost completely tilted back. Thoughts weave through my mind like yarn.

Do I ask Sadie to come with me, or is it too soon for that?

Finally, I stop looking and step inside the building.