“I’m fine,” I say. “How are you?”

“Good,” he says. “I’m good.”

“Cool.” I untangle my legs and sit on the edge of the bed. There’s another pause, and I rack my brain for something to say. “Um, how’s basketball?”

“It’s going really well. I think I have a good chance of getting some really good playing time this season.”

“That’s great,” I say. “I’m happy for you.” I can hear the excitement in his voice, and I really am happy for him.

“So I was just calling to make sure you were okay,” Corey says. “Plus, I didn’t know what the rules were.”

“The rules?”

“Yeah, if we’re allowed to talk or not.”

“Of course we’re allowed to talk,” I say, wondering how it got to this. I mean, is this us? Am I really making small talk with a boy I was with for two years? A boy I thought I was going to marry? I always wondered how that worked. Like, how can people be married for five, ten, however many years, fall asleep with the person every night, live with that person, and then get divorced and just have the person gone from their lives forever? It’s really weird, when you think about it.

“So is the stripper pissed that I wouldn’t talk to her?” Corey says.

I sigh. “No, Corey, I don’t think she really cared.”

“All right, cool. I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“You didn’t.” There’s a silence.

“All right, well . . . I guess that’s it. I just wanted to say hi. So hi.”

“I’m glad you called,” I tell him, meaning it.

“Yeah, me too. So, I guess I’m out.”

I smile into the phone. “Hey, Corey?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you have a great season. I know you’re going to do really well.”

“Thanks, Al,” he says, and I know he’ll always be the only one who’s ever allowed to call me that. When I hang up the phone, I feel the tears behind my eyes, but it’s only for a second, and then they’re gone.

THEN

The next morning, I stand outside the door to Drew’s room, taking deep breaths and talking to myself. I can do this. I mean, it’s only talking. It’s not like I’ve never talked to someone before. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He slams the door in my face. He tells me to fuck off. He lets me say I’m sorry, then says, “Apology NOT accepted, and I never want to see you again.” He asks me if I want to have sex, then after we do, he blows me off and never talks to me again. Okay, so the last one is pretty unlikely, but whatever.