The Boyfriend Who Always Picked Someone Else

He was so unbothered about it.

So unbothered that every humiliating thing between us seemed to be nothing but me flattering myself.

Someone at the table couldn't help asking him.

"You're really with Phyllis now?"

Bill glanced at Phyllis's post and let out a low laugh.

"That? She's just announcing a movie."

He raised his eyes over the group, and let them land on me last.

"Don't tell me you actually believed it?"

Phyllis lowered her head, cheeks red, and offered no correction.

The table only got louder.

But I sat there staring at the faint gleam of lip gloss at the corner of his mouth, lost somewhere far away.

Bill sat down beside me, his hand reaching under the table the way it always used to, to give my fingers a little squeeze.

I moved out of the way.

His hand stopped in midair, and his face cooled.

He drew it back and slid straight over to sit next to Phyllis.

Their arms pressed together, and Phyllis flushed.

The whole meal, every topic circled around him and Phyllis.

Someone asked if they'd applied to the same college.

Someone else teased them, the top science student and the top humanities student joining forces, imagining how terrifyingly smart their future kids would be.

I sat off to the side, like a stranger squeezed in at a shared table.

I wanted to leave, but Bill sat on the outside, blocking my seat exactly.

All I could do was look down at the food in my bowl while my stomach twisted with pain, wave after wave.

Phyllis bent her head to eat, and her long hair slid down against her cheek.

Without thinking, Bill slipped the black hair tie off his wrist and gathered her hair up for her.

His hands moved with the ease of someone who'd done it many times.

I watched his hands and suddenly remembered how long I'd once begged him.

Back then he'd said, "Cordelia, don't bother me with this little-girl stuff."

Phyllis picked up the cold soda beside her, and just as she went to open it, Bill frowned and took it from her.

"You're on your period. You can't drink cold things."

Everyone froze for a second, then broke into a storm of teasing.

"Don't tell me you two are…"

Phyllis went red and gave Bill a light slap.

Bill only smiled, then glanced down at me, as if he'd finally remembered I was still here.

"Your face looks flushed. Was the food too spicy?"

He held that bottle of cold soda out in front of me.

"Drink something cold."

I looked at the soda still misting with cold, and my mouth twisted.

For a moment I honestly didn't know whether I wanted to cry or laugh.

Today was also the first day of my period.

I'd had bad cramps since I was little. I couldn't touch anything cold.

Bill used to remember that.

He'd kept a timed reminder in his phone calendar and never once missed it.

But this time, he'd forgotten.

I didn't take it.

Bill's brows drew together again.

"Cordelia, how long are you going to keep being difficult?"

I shook my head, forced down the sob and the tears rising in my throat, stood up, and said,

"I'm not feeling well. I'm going home first."

Phyllis's face went awkward all at once.

She bit her lip gently and said, softly, "Is it because of me? Is Cory upset?"

Bill's face went cold, and he set the bottle of cold soda back on the table.

"Ignore her."

"So dramatic."

"It's nothing, and she has to make a scene like this."

The others at the table went quiet, staring at the three of us, baffled.

I covered my eyes, but the tears fell through my fingers anyway.

I grabbed my bag, shoved back my chair, turned, and rushed out of the restaurant.

I cried the whole way home, my eyes aching and swollen, my throat gone hoarse.

Mom was sitting in the living room, and when she saw me come in, she asked,