Punk Love

You remind yourself that you, like your ex, love yourself more than your first love. And there will be many more loves to come.

Weeks later, Jadie and Tom got back together.

She dumped Lance when she felt Tom had groveled hard enough, and was delighted to find out Tom was so miserable about their breakup, he was seeing a therapist.

I kept in touch with Jadie, but I made sure not to ask her about Alex.

I didn’t want to know if he moved on, if he was hooking up with the Elenas and Ainsleys of the world. If he was having the time of his life.

The good thing was, now that I was eating more protein and working under the pounding sun, I was leaner, tanner, and looked better than ever.

Four days before Alex was scheduled to get on a plane to Sweden, I got a call from him. I was at the promenade, jogging. I stopped the minute I saw his name on the screen, causing two other joggers to bump into me and curse me to oblivion and back.

“Hi,” I wheezed, breathless.

“Hey.” Alex sounded a little stoned, or maybe just guarded. I hadn’t answered the last three times he had called. Not because I was mad—I really wasn’t—but because I knew talking to him would mess me up for weeks on end.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“So, I asked Jadie to ask you, but she gave me some bullshit, long-winded explanation why I should do it myself. Basically, I’m throwing a small party in my basement tomorrow before I fuck off to Narnia. Pretty sure you have better shit to do with your Friday night, but I figured I’d give you the option. I mean, still, we were together for a long time, so…”

He trailed off. I smiled despite myself. It was such a classic Alex invitation. Reluctant yet hopeful.

“I mean, would that be okay if I come?” I cleared my throat.

“It’s more than okay when you come, and we both know that.”

I laughed.

He deflated, adding, “I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want to see you. Of course, I want you there, Lar.”

“Do I need to bring a present?” I scrunched my nose, walking around in circles to keep my body temperature high before breaking back in a jog. I couldn’t wait for him to see this new version of me.

“Fuck no. I’m not taking anything to Sweden, anyway. Just my miserable ass and a wallet.”

“All right. I’ll be there.”

“Hey, L?”

“Yeah?” I asked before we hung up.

“I’ve really missed you.”

It occurred to me on my way to Alex (I insisted on driving there, because that meant I wouldn’t allow myself to get trashed and make a mistake), that I was probably going to see Ainsley, and maybe even Elena, or whoever he was currently bumping uglies with. A pessimist by nature, I was certain he was already sleeping with someone else. And I hardly wanted a meet-and-greet with her.

That was the problem with doing the right thing and cutting all ties with your ex. You could always be blindsided by their brand new shiny life.

Before I got out of the car, I parked in front of Alex’s house. I thought I was going to throw up, so I called Jadie. It was pretty much a given she and Tom were going to be late, so I knew she wasn’t already inside.

“Hey!” she answered chirpily.

“I need you to tell me I’m not walking into some ghastly scene of Alex having a threesome with four porn stars and a German shepherd.”

“First of all, that’s not how threesomes work. Know your math, Lar.” Jadie let out a laugh. “And second, I promise you the coast is clear. Seeing him will be bittersweet. Bitter, more than sweet, if I have to guess. But nothing ghastly is going to happen. This is Alex we are talking about. He was so pussywhipped before you guys broke up.”

Assured, but not completely sold, I got out of my car and knocked on the door. I wore a black mini dress and a hot pink shoulder purse.

Alex swung the door open. He looked a little thinner than I remembered, a little less happy, and he’d shaved his entire head. Which looked…weird.

The new haircut—or lack of hair, more like—was like a punch to my gut. A prime example of how he moved on without me.

“You look different,” I blurted out.

“Same goes to you.” He drank me in with his eyes, then added, “Come in.”

I waved hello to his parents and grandmother and descended the stairs to his basement. There, I found Daniel, a few more guys I recognized from demonstrations and punk gigs, two guys from his high school, and a pretty girl who was sitting on one of his high school friends that he was definitely not sleeping with.