Page 32 of My Infatuation with Isabella

He doesn’t answer.

I put my hand out. “Give me your phone.”

“You know, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s just let bygones be?”

“I swear to God, Scott, I will fucking cut you. Give me your phone right now.”

With a weighted breath, he takes his phone out of his back pocket and hands it to me. I tap on his message icon, then on Dylan’s name, and scroll up to the top of averylong conversation.

Scott:I think this is something you should listen to.

Scott:But make sure you’re alone before you click on the link.

Two minutes later.

Dylan:Why would you send this to me?

One minute later.

Dylan:What the fuck makes you think I want to hear this shit? Why would you send this to me?

Scott:I swear I had good intentions. This is not what I was expecting at all.

One minute later.

Scott:Sorry, Dyl. I shouldn’t have sent it. It wasn’t my place to get involved in this. Just turn it off.

Dylan:Why is there classical music in the background? It sounds like a telenovela.

Scott:Because that’s what’s supposed to be playing. I don’t think they know they’re on air.

And then there’s just a string of non-stop messages.

Dylan: I’m married! Do you think I care if she can’t connect with another guy? You think I care if she misses me or not? I DON’T!!!

Scott:Then stop listening.

Dylan:Fuck, now the whole world knows our business

Scott:No one knows it’s you. Dylan is a very common name. Why are you still listening anyway? Turn it off.

Scott:I’m trying to call you. Why do you keep disconnecting it?

Dylan:Listen to her playing the victim. You’d swear she actually cared.

Scott:Oh, that’s why you’re not answering. You just wanna keep torturing yourself with this stuff.

Dylan:If she ever gave a shit about me, she wouldn’t have slept with another guy!

Dylan:Who’s Diego? Do you know?

Scott:This guy she’s been seeing.

Dylan:For how long? Is it serious?

Dylan:Don’t answer that. I don’t give a fuck.

Scott:The way you’re bouncing between emotions is starting to worry me.

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