The rest of the week flew by, and before I knew it, Saturday arrived. Not that I was mad about that: I had been eagerly anticipating it, after all.

Just as he'd done throughout the week, Angelo called me in the afternoon. I had been in the middle of cooking with Nabila when he called, but I smiled and answered as soon as I saw his caller ID. "Hi!" I said breezily, stretching out the syllable.

"Hey, hey!" He chuckled. "You sound happy to hear from me. Missing me already? It has been nearly a day since we last spoke; the wait must have left you in agony."

I rolled my eyes, still smiling. "Don't flatter yourself. Anyways, are you coming over today?"

"Nah."

"Yeah, I figured. So we'll go tomorrow then?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, our plans..."

There was a moment of silence, then Angelo replied, "Huh?"

My smile faltered. "So you did forget."

I'd been hoping for Angelo to bring up our plans, so I hadn't reminded him the day before, even though I'd been dying to confirm if they were still on.

"Plans...oh, the art center trip!" He chuckled sheepishly, "Not gonna lie, I did. I'm sorry!"

I sighed. "Whatever, it's fine. So, what time should I be ready tomorrow?"

"Ooh...um about that, tomorrow doesn't work for me. I have a shitload of work I have to finish before Monday."

My shoulders slumped. "Oh, alright."

"I really hate to have to cancel; how about next weekend? I should be less swamped then."

I brightened. "Alright, sounds good. Good luck with your work."

"Thanks! Matter of fact, I'm gonna head back to it, so talk to you later."

"Okay, later."

Angelo hung up. I sighed, then dropped my phone and went back to cooking.

Nabila turned her focus to me. "He canceled?"

I sighed again. "Yeah, he said he's swamped with work at the moment, so he rescheduled for next week."

"Ah. Well, I'm sure you both will have a lot of fun then!"

I smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, we will."

. . .

Although I spoke to Angelo on several days of the following week, he didn't mention anything about the plans we had coming up. As much as I itched to bring it up, I decided to leave the ball in his court; he'd canceled the last time, so it was up to him to reschedule.

Saturday rolled around. When he called, I waited with bated breath for him to bring up the plans.

Not so much as a word on it.

Which each minute he spent rambling about inconsequential topics, my patience wore thinner. I was silent most of the time, only forcing out half-hearted nudges of agreement from time to time with a stony expression on my face. Angelo was too high to notice that there was something wrong.

Eventually, my line of self-control grew taut, so I had to blurt out a half-baked excuse to get off the phone. I immediately headed to the kitchen, burying my attention into the task of baking brownies; as much as I wanted to curse Angelo out, I decided to give him the chance to bring it up the following day.

That Sunday, it took a few minutes of lackluster banter on my part before Angelo finally realized that something was wrong. When he did, he said, "Are you okay? Your energy seems to be lacking."

Gee, I wonder why?

I forced a smile. "I'm fine. By the way, do you still wanna go to the art center? It's fine if not, just let me know."

"Of course I do; why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you never brought it up after you canceled last week, so..."

"Oh shit." He grinned sheepishly. "It slipped my mind. Why didn't you remind me?"

"I was hoping you'd remember."

"Tsk tsk." He shook his head, then smiled. "Alright then, how about next week?"

I frowned. "That's what you said last week."

"Yeah, but this time will be different, okay? Remind me if I forget."

I sighed. "Sure, whatever. Anyways, I gotta go."

"Ah ah ah, not on a sour note! I wanna see your smile."

I rolled my eyes. "Bye Angelo."

"Aimee, I swear if you hang up I will drive over there at the most inconvenient time I can think of and I won't leave till you apologize. And you must give the apology while smiling."

I shook my head. "I won't let you in here."

"Then I'll stand outside and sing at the top of my voice till you do."

A smile broke out over my face. "Oh my god, you wouldn't dare!"

He smirked. "Well not anymore; I got what I wanted."

I rolled my eyes, although I was still smiling. "Whatever! You only got it because your threat was so stupid."

"Threat? You will be lucky if I were to bless you with this heavenly voice!"

"Oh dear, seems the weed is fucking with your long-term memory now."

"Jokes on you, I'm not high."

"So the effects have become permanent?"

It was clear that Angelo was holding back a laugh as he scoffed, "Whatever, you're just a hater. I'm hanging up; I can only take so much negative energy in one go."

I blew a kiss at him. "It was nice talking to you as well, bye!"

He dodged the air kiss, grimacing. "Eww, I don't want your cooties."

"Oh my god, how dare you dodge my kiss!"

Laughing, Angelo hung up, but not before saying, "Talk to you later!"

Still smiling, I focused back on the movie I had been watching before he had called.

A few minutes later, I received a voice recording. I played it, then winced as Angelo's warbly rendition of a love song grated out of my phone's speakers.

Smiling, I replied: '1/10 sir, and I'm being generous.'

He replied: 'I'm screen-recording this and including it in my sob story when I audition for The Voice.'

'I'm not worried: no sane person would ever air your singing on live television.'

'Congratulations, you just earned yourself a one-way ticket to my blocked list!'

I burst out laughing.

. . .

Despite Angelo's assurance about our plans, I was still on edge every time I spoke with him the following week. With each conversation that went by without an update on it, my nerves became more jittery. Yet, I held back from bringing it up; I wanted to see if he cared enough to remember.

Saturday rolled around, but I didn't hear anything from Angelo that day. Finally, my anxiety bubbled over, so I texted him that evening: 'Heyyy, what time should I be ready tomorrow?'

I kept my phone close by, reaching out for it at the slightest hint of a notification sound. Hours went by with no response from Angelo. I contemplated sending him another message, but I ultimately decided that it'd be better to just head to bed.

As soon as I got my bearings after waking up the next morning, I grabbed my phone. My breath caught when I saw an unread message from Angelo:

'Fuck, I forgot about it and made plans with some friends for today. Raincheck? I'll set a reminder on my calendar this time, I promise.'

I bit my lip as my heart rate sped up. I fucking knew you'd forget. Dickhead!

I called him multiple times but he didn't pick up, so I sent him: 'Do whatever tf you want, idc anymore.'

I threw my phone onto my bed, then buried my head into my pillow and screamed into it.

. . .

I got a reply back from Angelo in the late afternoon. By then, I wasn't sure if I wanted him to make things right, or leave me alone for good. My curiosity ended up overpowering my disgust at him, so I opened his message. It read:

'You sound mad.'

I gritted my teeth. "No fucking kidding!"

My fingers smashed across my phone screen as I replied: 'Well I've been fucking making an effort to spend time with you while you shit on it and give me nothing back, so yeah, I'm fucking mad! I mean, you can't even do the bare minimum and fucking notify me about your change in plans!'

I glared at his message for a few moments after I sent my response, then added, 'You know what? I'm beginning to think this is one-sided. I mean, I'm clearly carrying whatever we have between us on my back. Matter of fact, I don't even know if you're really attracted to me anymore: after all, you much prefer Kyra's body, right?'

My eyes widened. Wait, what if that is the 'friend' who he has plans with?

My blood boiled even hotter. Tossing aside my phone, I scoffed, "Well he can fucking marry her, for all I care. That's his damn business."

I tugged off the necklace he had given me, then threw it across the room.

After that, I tried to put him out of my mind with the help of a comedy skit, but my attention betrayed me: my eyes kept darting to my phone every few minutes, re-reading my responses as I waited for his reply.

. . .

'I never said your body was bad. I was just emphasizing how good Kyra's body is, so I don't know why you're still tripping over this.'

'And another thing: I'm getting the impression that we aren't on the same page. See, we are not 'together' - I never asked you to be my girlfriend and I don't plan on doing so. If you need some space to help you get over whatever feelings you've developed, I'll be happy to leave you alone for a while.'

I re-read Angelo's replies for what seemed like the thousandth time.

About half an hour had passed since he'd sent it. At first, I'd cycled through a variety of emotions: from disbelief, to disgust, to anger, to rage. However, they were all attempts to fight the emotion I wanted to avoid feeling the most:

Shame.

However, it eventually surfaced, bringing with it tears as I realized how stupid I had been to lead myself on. I'd expected so much from Angelo and had overreacted because of it. Of course I was bound to get hurt eventually.

My tears had dried by the time I sent him my response: 'You're right: my feelings for you have been clouding my judgment. I'm sorry for that. I agree, I need space from you for a while.'

I thought for a bit, then added: 'Oh, and I still do not appreciate having my body compared to Kyra's, so fuck you for that.'

He replied barely a minute later, but I didn't bother reading his responses until shortly before I went to bed. They read:

'Wait, you're actually taking space???'

'Ok, I understand and you absolutely deserve time to yourself. Just reach out to me whenever you wanna get back in contact.'

'Oh, and I still don't see what was wrong with what I said regarding Kyra, but aight :/'

'Anyways, ttyl! I'll think of you till you reach out again.'

Scoffing, I tossed my phone away after reading the last message. "No need to fucking lie."

I put on my heartbreak playlist then buried myself under my covers. That night, I cried myself to sleep.

. . .

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