Trying Hard to Ignore You

Cold Coffee and a Chocolate Chip Cookie

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Really." He says. "So tell me, what did you do with the ring? I like a good reality show."

I cringe.

"The ring...is sitting in a drawer in my bedroom."

His face falls.

"What? Audrey! Why do you still have it?"

"I don't know what to do with it!"

He laughs quietly, shaking his head.

I laugh nervously, sipping my coffee.

He lets out a breath, sighing.

"I was hoping you would do something. Throw it in his face..." he trails off.

I shake my head.

"No, I haven't."

He nods.

"Well why not?"

I pause.

"Can we not talk about him? I don't..." I cringe, shaking my head.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up." He sips his drink and changes the subject. "What do you do for work?"

"I'm a pharmacist."

"Really?" He says, interested. "That's cool. So you know a lot about medicine?"

I nod.

"I know every medicine approved by the FDA and I can tell you the side effects for anything."

"Lexapro. Go."

"Depression medicine. It can cause drowsiness, dizziness, insomnia, nausea, upset stomach, gas, heartburn, constipation, weight changes," I laugh a little. "Uh...dry mouth, yawning, ringing in the ears, decreased sex drive-" I giggle. "And impotence or difficult having-" I pause, whispering the last part, shielding my mouth from everyone with a smile on my face "-an orgasm!"

He throws his head back laughing until he has tears.

"You're lying!" He accuses, grinning. I smile.

"I'm not lying. Look it up!"

He pulls his phone out and types, and a moment later, he looks up at me.

"You're like a dictionary! Let me think of something else...hold on." He starts typing on his phone again.

"Levi-the-Roxanne?" He asks.

I laugh.

"Levi-thy-roxin?" I ask.

"I think so." He smiles.

He's really cute when he smiles.

"That's for hypothyroidism and enlarged thyroid glands, and thyroid cancer. The list with that one is way too long."

He nods.

"Okay." He closes his phone and puts it away. "Favorite color?"

"Red. You?"

"Blue."

"Figures." I say. He laughs.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're just a basic guy. You like football, don't you?"

"Yes." He says. "I was a quarterback in high school. I'm a teacher at the college and I went to college on a football scholarship."

"Wow." I say, surprised. "Your parents must be proud."

"They are. They're great people. They'd love you."