Page 47 of The Other Guy

JACK

It’s been a week of quiet and what I once loved and almost craved, and now I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. I’m going through the motions, eating my boring meals and running my gym but everything feels a little empty.

I haven’t even had any texts from Toolbag’s latest string of girls. Maybe he finally found his conscience and decided he’d stop using me as part of his plan. I don’t miss the texts, so much, as the… entertainment. Not the right word for it but it’s the only term I can come up with. I didn’t enjoy it, but it at least brought some level of excitement to my dull life.

“Why do I miss getting those texts? How pathetic am I?” I say to myself.

And even though I try not to, I miss Sierra. Now her type of entertainment is actually wanted. I still want. In the few days she was here, she brought a certain light that I already feel like is absent from my life. Maybe has been for a long time.

I put my now empty cup of coffee down on the end table and stretch out my legs on the leather ottoman in front of me. It’s Sunday and normally I love Sundays. I lounge and relax and it’s (typically) my cheat day for food. I rarely leave the house. A movie plays on the TV, one that I’ve seen more times than I can remember and can practically recite it from memory. But it’s hilarious and it truly never gets old. This group of three guys who all hate their bosses for different reasons and get into more trouble than any of them anticipate.

After it’s over, I que up the sequel but pause it to make myself a giant plate of nachos with some shredded buffalo chicken. Pour a glass of soda and settle back onto the couch with my meal.

Halfway through the movie, my phone buzzes and I pull it out of the pocket of my gray sweatpants and groan when I read the text that greets me.

Unknown: Last night was amazing.

Shit. I shouldn’t have spoken my happiness over not receiving more texts into the world.

I ignore the text until my movie is over, clean up my dishes and the kitchen a little bit. Mess around on social media for a few minutes before I get another text alert.

Unknown: Now you’re quiet? You had a lot to say last night.

Giving in to the temptation, I text back.

Me: You like a guy who talks, huh?

Unknown: Well, dirty talk, yeah. It was… sexy.

Me: Glad you enjoyed yourself.

Unknown: Oh, I did. For sure. You? Want to do it again?

I think for a few moments and decide to listen to my dad’s advice and shut it down before it gets out of hand once again.

Me: I’m just going to come out and tell you. This isn’t the guy you were with last night.

Unknown: Huh?

Me: I’m his textdoor neighbor and he’s using my number to give to the women he’s been with.

Unknown: Textdoor neighbor, huh? That’s funny. I’ve never heard that term before.

Me: It’s hilarious, right? A friend of mine made it up, I can’t claim it either.

Me: So anyway, sorry but I’m not him.

Unknown: I guess I still don’t really understand. You texted me back like you knew what we’d done last night.

Me: Yeah. Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve received one of these texts and I sometimes just talked to the women because I felt bad. But I’ve recently had a change of heart.

Unknown: Change of heart, huh? What brought that on?

No way do I want to say that not only did I meet a girl who reminded me that I should put a stop to it, but my daddy told me to as well.

Me: I just did. Sorry that I misled you at the beginning but I wanted to be honest.

Unknown: Well, thanks, I guess.

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