Eight weeks later
I slouched on my couch, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, when Jake strolled into my Athens apartment, his usual smirk in place. "Yo, Ethan, you've been a ghost lately," he said, plopping down beside me. "What's up?"
I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Nothing, man."
He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "This ain't just 'nothing.' You've been moping ever since Emily split. What's the deal? You think she slipped something in your coffee or what?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's not like that, Jake. I just… I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know why."
Jake burst out laughing, slapping his thigh. "Oh, man! The king of suckers strikes again! It's not her you miss—it's the action, bro." He leaned in, patting my leg. "Admit it, she had you hooked."
"Cut it out," I muttered, shoving his hand away. "I'm serious. I really cared about her."
Jake's laughter faded, replaced by a mock-serious stare. "Ethan, you telling me this ain't a joke? You're actually hung up on her?"
"I'm not joking," I said, my voice low. "I've never felt like this before."
He hissed, rolling his eyes. "Man, instead of getting tested for, you know, anything after her, you're sitting here pining over some player? You're hopeless."
"You don't get it," I said, frustration creeping in. "I keep thinking we were too hard on her. Kicking her out like that… it feels wrong."
Jake snorted. "Wrong? That's the least she deserved. Be glad I didn't go full savage on her. Back in my broke days, I might've turned her into a side hustle."
"Jake, come on!" I snapped, shaking my head.
"I'm just saying," he said, grinning. "You're carrying her baggage like it's your job. You think she's losing sleep over you? No way. She probably sweet-talked some dude at the bus station for cash. Or sold her phone. That's why her number's dead."
I sighed, staring at the floor. "I keep wondering how she got back to Miami without money. She had nothing on her."
Jake leaned back, unfazed. "Easy. She's a pro. Probably charmed a couple guys at the Greyhound station for a ticket. Or hocked her phone for cash. Bet that's why you can't reach her."
I shook my head, a knot forming in my stomach. "Still…"
"Bro, let it go," Jake said, standing up. "I'm heading home to prep for work tomorrow. Don't sit here crying over her."
"Alright, man," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll swing by your place tomorrow after my shift."
"Cool," Jake said, heading for the door. "And stop moping, king of suckers. My regards to Emily!" He laughed, dodging the pillow I threw at him. "You're hopeless, man!"
The door clicked shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sank into my chair, replaying every moment with Emily. Why did I still care? She'd played me, used me, lied to my face. Yet her smile, her laugh, the way she'd made me feel alive—it all lingered like a stubborn ghost.
Did she put some kind of spell on me? I wondered, half-joking. Maybe Jake's right—maybe it's just her charm messing with my head. Or those late-night iMessage sessions. I shook my head, trying to laugh it off, but doubts crept in. Was our judgment too harsh? She was gorgeous, smart, cunning. What if she was just playing the game to survive? What if I'd never seen those messages? Could she have changed?
The questions piled up, relentless. How did she get to Miami? Did something happen to her? Is she okay? Her number hadn't worked in weeks, and her Instagram had been silent. What if she's in trouble? Or worse? The thought made my chest tighten, but I pushed it away. She's fine. She's too sharp to not be.
I grabbed my phone, desperate for answers, and tried checking her ChatNow. Nothing. I'd been blocked the day Jake sent her packing. I tried logging into her account, but the password had changed. Of course she changed it, I thought, cursing under my breath. I created a burner account and searched for her profile. It popped up, but it was a ghost town—no posts, no stories, nothing for five weeks.
I tossed my phone onto the bed, sinking deeper into my thoughts. Why can't I let her go? She played me, but what if there was more to it? What if she really did care, even a little? The questions looped, unanswered, driving me crazy.
Just then, my phone rang, the screen lighting up with a name that made my heart stop. I stared, frozen, as the call kept buzzing, pulling me back into the chaos I thought I'd left behind.