Page 119 of The Girl with No Name
“In love…with her? You don’t even know her.”
“And we’re moving to Nashville.”
He huffs. “You’re not moving anywhere. We have five months left on our lease. I’m not paying it by myself.”
I laugh. “I’m leaving, man.”
“Dude, you can’t justleave. This isn’t a debate.”
“You’re right. It’snota debate.”
“What are you doing? Going to Nashville and then…what? You’re gonna play your crappy songs? Bro, you can’t even hold a crowd at Murphy’s in Wrigleyville. You’ll never succeed. But most of all, you can’t just leave. You’re paying half the rent here. So it’s not up for discussion.”
I just laugh.
“What the fuck? Is this funny to you?” Mason yells.
“Let me ask you something. What’s your favorite thing about yourself?”
He stops, chuckles, and falls silent. I can see he’s having trouble answering my question. So I answer it for him.
“I’ll tell you what I see. I see through the façade of the handsome, rich-yet-stingy guy with a trust fund who has everything made for him. I see an incredibly insecure man child who has nothing going for him, who doesn’t even have the hope I have of finding something outside of his nine-to-five job that holds meaning for him, and who assuages his lack of confidence and fear of commitment with a sex addiction where he preys on girls through dating apps. Sometimes you don’t even tell them your real name.”
“Fuck you. Bro, you’re wrong. She’s crazy. You don’t know. She’ll leave you the second you make one tiny little mistake.”
I just smile. “Dude, I’m going.”
“What the fuck, dude? Why the fuck are you smiling? My name’s on the lease! I’m not paying double the rent.”
I look down at my phone where I had texted Luna my address. It’s been about an hour and she should be here by now.
I take a few bags and bring them down to the alley, where she’ll come by.
Then I come back up to grab my guitar, the last thing in my room.
I stop in the kitchen to say goodbye to Mason. I’ve never understood those emo memes about how sometimes you’ve got to drop your old friends if you want to grow. But suddenly, they all make perfect sense.
“Yo, I don’t know what’s going on, but we have an agreement here,” he says as soon as he sees me. “We’re friends, man. Come on. Friends don’t get with friends’ exes. That’s bro code. And you can’t just stick me with a pile of bills I wasn’t expecting.”
It’s funny to me that he gives a shit about rent with all the money he has. But for Mason, maybe it’s not about the money. Maybe it’s about controlling everyone around him.
“I’d never treat a friend the way you’ve treated me the past few months.”
“Pssh. That’s some poofy emo shit. Be a man. Tell the girl you don’t like sluts. My name is on the lease, bro. You can’t just dip out like this while your bed and your other stuff is still here.”
I shrug. “I don’t need it where I’m going. You can have it.”
“I’m not getting some random Craigslist roommate.”
“Is that an MP or a YP?” I ask.
“The fuck are you talking about?”
He’s so riled up he doesn’t get that I’m throwing his own comeback at him.
“Sounds like a YP,” I confirm. “A ‘You Problem.’”
“Dude. She’s not even here. She’s a flake. She’ll fuck you over, too. Trust me.”