I decided I did need to pick up Ryan early. But first, I owed Nick and others a response.
I ignored the messages from people that I hadn’t spoken to in over a year; if they hadn’t been a friend enough to text me before this “news-worthy” event, they didn’t deserve something now. I also ignored a couple of friends that thought it was funny to call me “Mrs. Ferrari.” I reassured my parents that I had acted responsibly that night and that Nick was a good guy.
And then I came to having to respond to Nick.
I wanted to thank him and show my appreciation for him reaching out to TMZ. I wanted his reassurances that everything would be fine. I just…I wanted him to hold me.
But, then again, that probably wasn’t smart, was it?
I decided on the worst option—settling somewhere in the middle. I just wrote back, “I appreciate it. Thanks so much, Nick.” I knew as soon as I sent that message, it was likely to be construed as sarcasm or being flippant. But I just didn’t know what to say or do, really.
The only thing I knew for sure was how I felt, and there was nothing about how I felt that made me feel like things were going to be OK.
Chapter 11: Nick
“Oh, she actually responded.”
I looked down at the text Izzy had sent.
“I appreciate it. Thanks so much, Nick.”
I appreciate it. That’s it? Do you really?
And thanks so much?
So…nothing else?
“What did she say?” Brett said as we stood outside Layla’s office.
I didn’t respond at first, but I was damn sure the frustration on my face said it all. I had passed up sex on spring break multiple times, had communicated with her regularly, had offered to help her through this troubling incident…and all I got was something that could have been sarcastic?
I was borderline pissed. I felt like I’d tampered the aggressive, go-getter Nick in favor of one that was a little more supplicant, a little more willing to be patient, but this was coming at a severe cost.
“What did she say,” I said sarcastically. “She said, ‘I appreciate it. Thanks so much, Nick.’ This from a woman that I took out, romanced, courted heavily, have treated so well—”
“Put in the papers by being out—”
I cut Brett off right there with a glare that made it abundantly clear that if he said anything further, I was going to cut him where he stood.
“I have no fucking control over that,” I said. “I can understand if she was pissed after the first date and she got called out. But the second? She knew what she was getting into.”
I should have just taken Reanna when I had the chance. At least then, I wouldn’t be going through this stupid-ass dry spell like I am now.
“Well, I’m sure Layla will be happy to agree with you unconditionally since you know better than to threaten to kill her,” Brett said as he knocked on the door again.
“Hold on, damnit!” Layla shouted from the other side.
“That’s because she’s going to kill you before I kill her,” I said, my lame attempt at humor.
It got Brett to chuckle at least, and a silence fell as the two of us waited for Layla to finish her work call so that we could chat. I pulled out my phone and looked up all of the girls that I’d been ignoring for the last month and a half or so. I literally could have had any of them to my apartment with just one text; all it took was just saying “hey, wanna come over tonight?” and I’d be getting off to some incredibly attractive woman that easily.
But every time I opened the conversation, a flood of guilt came over me. If I was going to cut things off with Izzy, it needed to come from a place of understanding and fairness, not from frustration and anger over fucking TMZ.
“You should text Leo for advice,” Brett said with a chuckle. “I’m sure Mr. Tattoo would love to help out.”
“Yeah, by what, riding a motorcycle and flipping off everyone in the stands after I hit a home run?” I said. “I think there’s a better chance of me signing with a team in Japan next fall than there is of me asking Leo for help.”
The humor did help me alleviate the stress, and I no longer felt the pressing desire to text someone. But things were coming to a head, and I knew if I didn’t get a resolution of some kind with Izzy in the next day or so, it was time to call it a day and find someone else.
“All right, assholes, you can come in now,” Layla yelled from the other side. “Jesus, maybe if you two had real jobs, you wouldn’t be swinging by my office at one on a Tuesday.”
“And hello to you too, sis,” I said as she walked to the door and opened it.
“Damn, you don’t look good,” Layla said. “You OK?”
“Look online, he’s got a much better photo of him,” Brett said.
I didn’t bother hiding my elbows to his ribs, a shot that caused him to bend over in pain. Ah, well, the asshole deserved it.
“What do you mean?” Layla said.
“Go to TMZ,” I said. “I know, I know.”
“Did you get caught dropping a racial slur or something?” Layla said as she walked back to her computer.
“Do you even know who I am?” I said with a laugh. “No, the girl that I went out with, Izzy. Pap got a photo of us leaving the bar about a month ago. And they have it all over their webpage right now.”
“Jesus,” she said. “I think I might commit
