“Hey,” the familiar voice says, and I try not to groan. It’s Clark Kent. I really should have blocked his number. I have no interest in speaking to him.
“Oh, hi,” I say, my voice stilted.
“I’ve been texting and calling you,” he says, sounding annoyed. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry, I’ve been working really hard. You know how it goes.”
“I do. I work in insurance and as such, I’m always busy,” he says. “But I needed you tonight.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, not wanting to be mean. He hasn’t technically done anything wrong.
“Yeah, I have a large stack of laundry and?—”
“Sorry, what?” I interrupt quickly. There is no way he’s saying what I think he’s saying, is there?
“I have a large stack of laundry that needs to be dried and then ironed.”
“Are you joking right now?” I say, practically laughing. “You are not for real.”
“What do you mean, am I joking?” he snaps. “I’m used to my girlfriend doing my laundry, and I think you really need to be a little more?—”
“I’m not your girlfriend,” I say quickly. “We met once.”
“We were talking on the phone for two months, and wecemented ourrelationship when we met at the coffee shop. It’s not my fault you had to rush off in an emergency. You’re lucky I’m even giving you a second chance.”
“I’m luckyyou’regivingmea second chance? What? Look, Clark—or whatever your name is?—”
“Is it because you prefer Batman?” he interrupts.
“What?” HUH?
“Look, I have a Batman cape, as well. In fact, I?—”
“I’m not trying to be funny,” I cut in, “but I’m not interested. I don’t think we should talk anymore.”
“What? Are you kidding me? Are you really going to be a bitch and treat me like a punk?”
“I’m so confused. I’m not treating you like anything. I’m just not in a place to be in a relationship right now.” I don’t tell him that I’m not attracted to him, or that he needs to let the superhero thing go because he’s not six years old anymore.
“I think we really need to talk in person, Willow,” he insists. “Because I think you’ve misunderstood my intentions. I’m not just looking to bang. I also want to take you out for expensive meals at Denny’s or IHOP. I also want to?—”
“Hey, I really have to go, I’m sorry.” I hang up and quickly block his number. I take a deep breath. The world is really going mad. Completely mad. I walk up the stairs to the apartment and open the door.
Katherine and Brielle are sitting on the couch, glasses of wine in their hands. They look up at me and both smile with that lazy, slow look that tells me they are drunk.
“Why do you look like that?” Katherine asks..
“Clark Kent just called me, and the man is crazy, literally crazy. He wanted me to go over to his place and do his laundry, and he said I was his girlfriend.”
“You see what I mean? All the men want you. This is the season of Willow.” Brielle says, jumping up and handing me a glass of red wine. “This is for you.”
“Thank you,” I say as I take a long, deep sip. I feel the warm liquid go down my throat, and I smile, grateful. “I really needed this.”
“Men are crazy. That’s why if you meet one that’s not as crazy, you might as well have fun.” She stares at me. “And that Sebastian sounds like he’s fun.”
“You know what? I will say that he’s gorgeous, and compared to Clark Kent, he’s actually sane.”
“He hasn’t asked you to do his laundry?” Katherine says with a grin.
