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After: Oliver


Nick

Dogface and me, we go way back.

She was the first girl who ever let me see her boobs.

I remember the day really clearly. We had a "secret club" where we sat in this giant abandoned pipe in the woods outback of her house where there used to be a quarry. We'd sit in that old pipe and dare each other to say swear words. Dogface was the first person who ever heard me say fuck. The word was like dirty music rolling off the tongue into the hollowness. One day, we got there after school and Dogface complained about gym class where a girl named Annalee who had the biggest boobs in our whole grade and was wearing a bra and everything had made fun of her.

"She called me a Flatty," Dogface complained.

"Well you are a Flatty," I answered.

Dogface frowned, "Am not. Take it back."

"You are, too," I replied, "You're flatter than me and I'm a boy."

Dogface had resolutely pulled her shirt up and grabbed my hand and pressed it to her chest. "See?" she demanded as my palm cupped her right breast. "I'm not a Flatty," she said.

I never went out with her. I'd already seen her boobs so there wasn't much else for me to try to conquest. And plus, I mean, she was called Dogface for a reason. Her real name was Ashley but I don't think I ever called her that before. Instead, Dogface became my wingman.

And that's how it stayed.

It wasn't until just now that I ever realized that I kinda sort of wanted something else.




Ashley

I sat up in bed. My eyes flickered to the clock on the bedside table. I didn't know what had woken me up. It wasn't like I'd had a nightmare or there'd been a noise or anything like that. I fell back into the pillow and stared at the ceiling, a funny, unsettled feeling crawling around in me. I closed my eyes, but rest didn't come.

I rolled and grabbed the remote and turned on the TV at the foot of my bed. It glowed and flickered and lit up the bedroom's darkness. I gnawed on my lip as it shimmered, a bodacious blonde chopped onions and tomatos like there was no tomorrow. She looked like someone Nick would go out with. I wondered if he had. He'd dated almost everyone in Los Angeles, so why not this Vanna White Wannabe?

My phone rang. I glanced over at it as it vibed and shook across the table top beside the clock. It took me a second to realize that it was Nick's ringtone.

Speak of the devil, I thought.

I reached for the phone, muting the TV as I did so. "I was literally just thinking of you," I said as I answered.

"Ash.... ley...."

The voice was only a breath. Like one of the ringwraiths in Lord of the Rings. It was so un-Nick-like that I could barely recognize it. Plus, he didn't call me 'Dogface'.

"Nick?"

"Sshhh..."

"Nick?"

"Hi."

"Hey," I said. Goosebumps were crawling up my arms, "You okay?" I glanced at the clock, "It's like three in the morning."

"...Oliver..."

"What?"

The line went dead.

"Nick?"