Page 57 of Please Don't Leave Me

“I’m Mikey.”

“Mikey? As in Big Mike? Or are there two of you?”

He chuckles. “No, that’s me. I prefer Mikey, but everyone calls me Big Mike for some reason. I honestly can’t even remember how it started.”

I look him over, and it truly doesn’t compute. This man is not what I expected someone called Big Mike to look like at all. This guy is clean-cut, handsome, and has clear, bright eyes. He doesn’t look like any dealer I ever met in college.

“Do you live here alone?” This is my attempt at subtly finding out if he lives with his mom or if he really just isn’t the stereotype at all.

“No, I have a couple roommates. I own the house, but I rent out rooms to friends who need cheap rent. It helps pay the mortgage.” I look at him, and my face must ask the question because he answers it. “I bought the house with money from my college adventures, but I don’t do that anymore. I work at a bank in the next suburb over.”

My eyes widen, and I can’t help but giggle. It's likely the weed, but that seems really funny to me for some reason. Acollege dealer is now working at a bank. Why not, I guess. I used to smoke in college, but now I have a very respectable, professional job.

In my head, people who did this a lot only had fun, crazy jobs like B or worked in the service industry. But Mikey surprises me and reminds me that I shouldn’t subscribe to stereotypes.

My body feels lighter, and my brain feels clear. I need to do this more often. I forgot how nice it is to escape all the anxiety that clutters my thoughts and affects my everyday life. I lean into the euphoric feeling and sink back into the couch.

“Hey, Mikey?"

He leans back onto the couch alongside me and looks over. “Yeah?”

“Do you have any snacks?”

He laughs. “I think most of them are out by the bonfire.”

I grumble. "I don’t want to talk to people right now.”

“There’s a gas station just down the street. We could walk there and get some new snacks.”

I look over at him, and I can feel my eyes light up. “Can we?” Oh my god, I probably sound like a little kid whose parents told them they could go out for ice cream.

“Let’s go.” He stands up and grabs my hands to help lift me off the couch. My purse has been strung over my chest all night, and I’m thankful I don’t have to run outside to grab it.

He walks to the front door, and I follow him. We make our way down the sidewalk, side by side, and I can see the lights of the gas station up ahead. Wow, he wasn’t kidding. It is really close.

The fresh air feels good on my skin, and I breathe it in, fillingmy lungs.

We walk in silence for a while, which I don’t mind at all. But he eventually strikes up a conversation.

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m an architect,” I say, but I quickly correct myself. “Well, not quite yet. I graduated with my degree, but before I'm officially licensed, I need to complete a certain amount of hours and then pass six licensure exams.”

“That sounds pretty intense.”

“It is. I have my first exam coming up this summer, and I’m super nervous about it.”

“Well, if you’re half as smart as B is, then I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

I know how smart B is, but I didn’t know that her friends knew. She never really shows that side of her, especially when she’s partying. People usually think she’s all personality and no brains. But she landed the job with Daniel Perez for a reason. And it’s not just because of her knowledge of designer jackets.

“Are you and B pretty close?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I’d like to think so. We took some classes together in college and would study together.”

“Did you guys ever…you know, hook up?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t like that. I honestly thought she was a lesbian, so I never tried. It’s probably best we didn’t, though.”

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