chapter nine

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B U C K Y


I FELT like shit all weekend. The argument I had with Steve, with Lucy, who I didn't even know for all that long. I felt like an asshole. I felt like dirt. The words I said to both of them repeated over and over in my head.

And the worst part was, I knew that Steve was right. I was an awful friend to him. I never should've attacked Lucy like that. It just made me so mad when she didn't want to hang those fucking lights with me. And then our argument. What an idiot I was. How could I have done this to Steve?

I knew how important that date with Natasha was. How he had been watching her for a long time, waiting to make a move. And then finally he had that damned date, and I went along and fucked it all up. I went ahead and ruined it for him. If it were reversed, I knew he would've stopped at nothing to ensure my date had gone perfectly. 

I was the shittiest person in the entire world. I wasn't even sure how to fix it either. What could I do to get Steve to forgive me? Maybe if I were to apologize to Lucy, if I were to get her to convince Natasha into giving him another chance. Not to blame Steve for the mistake I made. Oh, I don't know. Lucy didn't seem like the type. 

She didn't see the type to go running to her cousin, either. But I didn't know her all that well anyway, so what do I know? Still, maybe it would be worth a shot. 

Standing from my couch, I scratched the back of my head. I knew her business card was around her somewhere. I knew she wouldn't get the message until tomorrow at work, but it was better than nothing. I had no other way of getting in contact with her. 

After a few minutes of searching, I finally sound her card crumpled up in my jacket pocket. It took me a few frustrating seconds to uncrumple it. Her name was written at the top, with Brooklyn Wellness Center written underneath, and then contact information. 

The couch dipped down as I sat, grabbing my phone. My throat went dry as I typed in the number, but my finger hovered over the green call button. 

"Jesus," I muttered. I swiped up, leaving the app and instead going onto Instagram. She was the first account that popped up when I searched her name. I stared down at the screen, eyes widening a bit when I saw the number of posts and followers she had. I had three and she had over five hundred. I noticed right away that Steve was one of them; when did that happen?

There weren't many pictures of her, mostly they were body shots of her doing something. Hands holding a book, legs or feet at the beach. There was a lot of her with her friends and her cousin. The ones that did show her face, I couldn't stop scrolling up to look at them again. She did have such deep-set brown eyes. They reminded me of fall, pumpkins, and Halloween. Hot chocolate on cold days. It felt stupid and silly, but it was as if her eyes were watching me through the picture. 

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