There’s silence and then, “Um, yeah. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

“Great! See you then.”

She’s coming over. This is good. Maybe it means she’s open to being friends. I hope so, because I don’t like how things have been between us. We don’t even talk anymore. I might get a hi from her in the hallway, but that’s it.

“Thanks for coming over,” I say, greeting her at the door.

She’s wearing yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair in a ponytail and no makeup on. She’d say she’s a mess, but I think she’s adorable. I’ve always liked that she can be herself around me and not worry about how she looks.

“You had me at cinnamon roll,” she jokes as she comes into my apartment. “I don’t have any food. I need to get groceries.”

“You want some eggs?” I ask, going to the kitchen. “Or I could make you something else.”

“I’ll just have a roll,” she says, sitting down on one of the barstools.

I hand her a plate and set the pan of rolls next to her. “Help yourself.”

She looks around. “Where’s Cole?”

“He had to deal with a leaky pipe.”

“He’s not coming back?”

“Probably not. I’m guessing it won’t be an easy fix. He’ll have to call a plumber.”

“Oh.” She sets down the roll she was about to bite into.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I just thought Cole would be here.”

“Nope. Just me.”

She nods, her eyes bouncing around like she’s nervous.

“Hey.” I come in front of her, remaining behind the counter. “I know this is a little awkward. You and me, alone here. But that’s kind of why I asked you to come over.”

Her eyes meet up with mine. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t like how things have been between us since we decided to, you know, end things. The way we’re avoiding each other. Barely speaking to each other. It shouldn’t have to be that way.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“That we go back to acting like we used to, before things got… complicated.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” she says, looking down at her plate. She picks up her cinnamon roll, tearing it into little pieces.

“Why isn’t it possible?”

“Because things changed when we…” She sighs. “It’s just different, okay? I don’t think I can go back to how it was before.” She points to her roll. “Can I take this to go? I have some stuff I need to do.”

“Trina, you don’t have to leave. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. We can talk about something else.”

She shakes her head and gets down from the stool. “I can’t stay. But thanks for breakfast.”

“You didn’t even eat it. Here, let me get you a bag.” I grab one from the drawer and hand it to her.

She hurries to put the roll in it. She doesn’t want to be here, because of me. I screwed up, and now she doesn’t even want us being friends. Why does that hurt so much? It never did before. If I broke up with a girl, I felt nothing. I didn’t even think about it.