I'll Be Here

about him.  There’s a pit in my stomach right now.  Is that the same as love?  I’m not sure anymore.  There’s this part of me that wishes that I could tell Laney that I’m a strong, powerful woman and I don’t need a man—rah-rah-rah girl power and all that.  But that’s not how I feel.  I still feel empty and I’m not sure if Dustin Rant is what I need to be full.  I can’t remember what being full feels like. 
    “I don’t know.”
    She nods.  “You know what you need to do, right?”
    I shake my head.  Obviously if I knew what I need to be doing I would be doing it. 
    “Duh.”  The expression on her face can only be described as exasperation.  “You need to make him jealous.”
    ***
    “Pass me the white-out please.” 
    I stand up and take the small bottle over to Smirna’s desk.  She unscrews the lid and carefully paints over a smudge on the ledger.  Fanning her hand and blowing, she gives me a thoughtful look over the edge of the paper.  “The thing to remember is that you’re young.  This is the time to make mistakes and learn from them, no?”
    “Does that mean that we should learn from them together or apart?” 
    She laughs.  “If all the answers were so easy then we’d all have it figured out.” 
    The waiting area has been empty since we sent the last patient of the day in to see Patty twenty minutes ago.  Smirna and I don’t normally chat about our personal lives but she asked about my “handsome young man” so I had to tell her that he was my young man no longer. 
    She inclined her head and said, “Dustin is not the handsome young man that I meant.” 
    And when she winked at me I knew that she meant Alex and that she’d picked up on some kind of vibe between us when he was in the office.  I hadn’t responded and I thought that I’d effectively shaken her off the trail but somehow our conversation about her quilting patterns had circled back to boys and we’re now talking about my ex.
    “But I want easy!”
    Smirna’s voice is careful.  “You’re a good girl Willow.  Do you really and truly want that boy back?”
    I just shrug. 
    She tips her head forward so that her chin is almost touching her neck.  “Answer the question.”
    I throw my hands up dramatically.  “Yes!  Okay?  Yes, I want him back.  I want to see the look on Taylor’s face when he comes back to me.”
    “That sounds less like love and more like revenge.”
    Somehow that seems like a familiar sentiment.
    Smirna turns back to her desk popping a cherry flavored cough drop in her mouth.  She looks at me halfway over her shoulder and smiles.  “If it is revenge you’re after then you must make him jealous.”
    ***
    “You should make him jealous.” 
    “Oh my God!  Why does everyone keep saying that?”  I turn in my seat knocking over a binder and a pen with my arm.  A half-dozen heads look in our direction. 
    Nate ignores my grimace and smiles like the Cheshire Cat as he bends to pick up the spilled things.  His white teeth show vividly against his almond lips.  “Because we’re intelligent, in the know, on the pulse… Take your pick.”
    I tuck my long hair behind my ear and lower my voice to a loud whisper.  “I just feel weird about doing that.”
    He sits up.  “How do you mean?”
    I sigh.  “Well, I would have to use a guy—a real guy—an actual living breathing person who might be a tad offended about being used as a subject in an experiment.”
    He considers that but doesn’t seem bothered by it.  “Just tell him the truth,” he says with a mild shrug. 
    “Guys aren’t like girls.  There are plenty of us that don’t mind being used by a hot girl, even if it is to get her douchy ex-boyfriend back.”
    “Hey,” I say slapping his arm playfully.
    Nate puts his hands up in mock surrender.  “I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”
    I raise my eyebrows and point my finger at him.  “Tell me this ‘Oh Wise One.’  Would you be willing to be my faux-boyfriend?”
    “And blow my chances to go to prom with Alyssa Chestnut?”  He points back mimicking my gesture.  “Not even for you sweetheart.”
    My chin settles onto my palm as I look around the room, studying the faces of my classmates.  Wes Hardin did ask me to prom but he’s too nice to use for some crazy scheme.  “What about Isaac?”  I say with a nod to the occupied desk in the corner of the room.
    Nate gives me a look like I’m crazy.  “Nose hair?  No, no,