Page 23 of Wild Thing
I never did, and that was the plan.
Six
DYLAN
Sunday
“That will be six-hundred and eighty dollars.”
Cringing at the stupid cost of the stupidly amazing tan trench coat, I handed over my AMEX.
Taylor and I spent most of the morning shopping in the city. The weather was average, raining steadily, but not as torrential as the day before. There wasn't much else to do apart from shop. We hit some of our favorite streetwear stores, plus a few high end designer stores. I did major damage to my bank account…new lingerie, leather pants and a Saint Laurent bag that I definitely didn’t need, but had to have. Plus, Taylor insisted I buy a new outfit for dinner with Brax, which included this trench.
This was what I loved about her. She was a ride or die friend. She’d cautioned me about my choices, but ultimately supported me no matter what.
Browsing the racks in a giant department store, Taylor pried a little further into my life. “So help me understand why the idea of settling down with Zack is so bad.”
Picking up a white blouse from the rack and holding it over my chest to check myself out in the mirror, my stomach drops slightly upon hearing Zack’s name.
Maybe it was guilt. Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Yet.
Exasperated, I told her it was complicated. “I feel like a bitch saying this, but I’m bored out of my brain, Taylor. One year in and I feel like I’ve aged twenty.”
Taylor nodded. “I get it.”
“He wants the white picket fence, the dog, the kids and the caravan…”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“I know. I know it’s not bad, but I just don’t want it… with him. We have the same boring conversations on loop.‘How was work?’,‘What do you want for dinner tonight?’,‘What do you want to watch on Netflix?’It’s so predictable I could mime the words as he says them.”
“What about your sex life?”
“It's regular, but it’s not hot. It’s vanilla. Like a fucking rehearsed dance.”
“Robotic.”
“Exactly," I sighed. "I can’t ignore the fact that I’m unhappy. And if I’m feeling like this now, how will I feel in another year?”
Taylor continued to browse the racks, pulling out items of interest and then placing them back. “And does Zack know that you’ve got one foot out the door?”
“His head would have to be fully up his ass tonotknow. Like, how much more resistance do I need to show?”
“So why haven’t you just broken up with him? Are you trying to force him to break up with you so you’re not the asshole?”
“No–I... maybe," I sighed. "I don't know, honestly.”
Taylor looked over to me. “And what do you want Dylan? What will make you happy?”
I traced my fingers over the clothing rack, pondering Taylor’s question. Before I knew it, his name flashed into my consciousness.
Brax.
I must have looked visibly shaken because Taylor was staring at me over the rack, with a smirk plastered on her pretty face. She doesn't miss a beat.
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
