tales of a girl in the city

juillet 05, 2005

Not Home

"I'll call you," he says.

He doesn't.

He doesn't call Monday. Tuesday, when I am Staying Out To Have Fun Without Him, he doesn't call. I know because I have my cell phone on vibrate in my pocket. Even during the movie.

Wednesday he doesn't call.


The week is marked by his non-calls.

"You're not calling him either," my friend A reminds me. But that's not the point, and we both know it.

Finally, after a week of this, I pick up my cell phone and find his number. "Edit Detail." I erase his name, and replace it with, "IF YOU PICK UP THIS CALL YOU, KATE, ARE THE ASSHOLE."

Fifteen minutes later, he calls.

I smile and watch the word "asshole" blink on my cell phone screen with every ring.

I'll find time to listen to his voice mail.