Page 58 of Hothead

She supposed that was true. She felt like shit. So she might as well stay somewhere shit too. Bask in the shitness.

As she began channel flicking for the millionth time that night, her phone buzzed against the laminated wood on the bedside table. She didn’t need to check who it was. The same three people had been calling for the past three days: Libby, Cat, and Rachel. She was yet to answer. Luke had also called, but only once. Two days after she’d left. She obviously didn’t answer that call either, knowing no good was going to come of it. But it didn’t stop her from obsessing over it. Wondering what he was going to say.

The vibrating stopped only to start again a moment later. That was different. Usually Libby, Cat, or Rachel would try only once. It was different enough to have Bella leaning over to grab her phone. But when she saw the name on the screen, she was starting to wish she hadn’t.

Luke. Why was he calling?

Maybe answer it and find out?

That would be ludicrous. There was no way she was answering. But that didn’t stop her stomach from churning at the sight of his name. Or her chest pounding. Eventually, his name disappeared. The new heart palpitations were sticking around though.

Bella stared at the screen, frozen. It was only when his name popped up again that she blinked. This time, he’d sent a message. Ignoring her shaky fingers, she slid open the text. Heart still racing at a worrying pace.

Luke:Answer the phone, Bella, we need to talk.

As soon as she’d read it, her phone was back to ringing.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, realizing her read notifications were switched on and Luke now knew that she’d seen his message.

Answer it.

No. There was nothing to say. She needed to be logical. She was never going to get over him, if she kept thinking about him. Talking led to thinking. Thinking led to missing. And missing would lead to Bella doing something stupid, like driving back to Woodvalley and declaring her love.

Love?

Not now brain. There was no time to think as the ringing stopped and another text appeared.

Luke:Seriously, Bella, answer your phone.

She was not going to answer her phone. No matter how badly her heart hurt, she would not forgo her dignity. She wasn’t anyone’s charity case.

***

What am I doing?

Downloading a dating app whilst trying to patch your heart back together with crazy glue was indeed a questionable decision. Going on an actual date with somebody from said app was just plain dumb.

She’d known as soon as she’d arrived at the restaurant that it was a bad idea. But it was too late. It’s not like she could stand the guy up. Just because she was hurting, it didn’t mean she had the right to hurt someone else. So there she sat, in Guac and Wrap, on the worst date of her life. Possibly even the worst date of anyone’s life.

The fact that the man looked nothing like his profile picture was the least of her worries. No. It was his unusual lifestyle, which was the real kicker. Straight away, before even saying hello, he’d informed her that he was a fruitarian. Something that until forty long minutes ago, Bella would have believed was totally made up. But no, apparently, this is a thing. A thing, Darren had been kind enough to explain to her. In great detail.

Oh joy.

So far, she’d learned about the very many benefits a fruit-based diet has on the digestive system. The anti-aging properties in fruit that basically makes you immortal. And oh, yes, her favorite, the ignorance of society as a whole.

Bet you’re wishing you stood him up now, right?

Maybe. Okay. Definitely. He’d ordered six different mocktails already, while she’d waited all damn day for a frigging taco. Why he’d suggested a Mexican restaurant when he didn’t eat anything on the menu, she had no idea.

A cruel joke?

“See, most people don’t know how many varieties of fruit there actually are.” Was it Bella, or was Darren looking more and more like a fruitcake? “And you can order them all online, you don’t need to rely on what the local supermarkets supply anymore. It’s revolutionary.”

Bella offered him a tight smile and a polite nod before guzzling down more of her raspberry punch.

Stupid mocktail. If ever there was a time for alcohol, it’s right fucking now.

“I order in bulk, whatever I don’t freeze, I keep in drawers around my apartment. Most of it can last a while at room temperature. Bananas ... they can last for a long time.”

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