lovesick puppy

Ethan posted our entire chat history, where I was basically chasing him, in his friend group. "Check out this lovesick puppy," he wrote. The group roasted me mercilessly. I added the guy who was the most brutal, his name was Riley. Later, at a party, Ethan tried to humiliate me again, same old trick. But Riley, of all people, stepped in front of me, shielding me. Ethan's face darkened. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked.

Valentine's Day afternoon, the dorm was buzzing. Girls were putting on makeup, trying on outfits, getting ready for dates. Me? I was curled up with a half-eaten bag of chips, binge-watching Netflix. Sarah had tried on what felt like a million dresses and still wasn’t satisfied. She drifted over to my closet. "Ooh, that dress is so cute!" It was a plum-colored bodycon dress, subtly flirty. I’d picked it out a month ago, when Ethan and I had made plans for dinner tonight.

Sarah asked, "No date tonight?" When I didn't answer, she smirked and dropped the name: "Ethan ghosting you again?" The name hung in the air, and everyone else in the dorm looked over. Ethan was always the center of attention – good-looking, top of his class, life was easy for him. Relationships too. Being popular his whole life, he never lacked for attention from pretty girls. And me? I was just the girl next door, who happened to go to the same schools as him from elementary through college. I had the "childhood sweetheart" script, but it was a one-sided story.

I pulled out my phone. No notifications from his contact, which was pinned to the top of my chat list. If I didn't reach out, he wouldn’t either.

By 9:30, I'd finished my show and was the only one left in the dorm. Sarah had gotten some foundation on the sleeve of my plum dress. I knelt down, carefully trying to dab it off. No luck. What was the point anyway? As soon as the thought crossed my mind, my phone rang. An unknown number, but I recognized it instantly. I didn't save his number, telling myself I didn’t care that much. But I knew it by heart.

"Hello?" I picked at a loose thread on the hanger, trying to distract myself. He chuckled, like he could hear the forced casualness in my voice. "Wanna go out?" he asked, his voice playful, teasing, the way it always was. So he did remember.

"It's 9:30," I said.

"So?"

"Is it always last minute with me? Ethan, that's kind of rude." I tried to joke. "Did someone else bail on you?" I kept my tone light, but I couldn’t help but wait for his reaction. But there was nothing. Silence. I thought the call had dropped, and I was about to switch to data when I realized he'd hung up.

Back in our chat, beneath my long string of green text bubbles, were his two short replies:

Ethan: "..."

Ethan: "Whatever. Not forcing you."

I started typing "I was kidding," trying to explain. But my fingers hovered over the send button. I’d waited all evening, and he just hangs up on me? I deleted the message and typed, "Are you mad?" Sent.

His reply was instant: "Can’t you...