Free The Love Square by Jessica Calla

hug.
    Jenna fought tears, refusing to cry over something that didn’t warrant it. They were perfect together the way they were. Not that we can’t be more perfect.
    Finally, she shook her head and refocused. “Let’s go home. I haven’t slept in my bed in days. I’ll need a chiropractor if I have to spend one more night on Scott’s futon.”
    Alex settled their tab and took her hand, and they walked silently back to the apartment building in the rain. Despite the steady drizzle, they didn’t rush. They took the stairs instead of the elevator, and when they got to the sixth floor, Jenna said good night to Alex, making it clear he wasn’t invited to join her. He kissed her hand and let her go, watching her close the door.
    As she lay in bed that night, Jenna switched back and forth between feeling sad and relieved. Although conflicted and maybe a bit embarrassed, she’d laid it all out there. Even though he’d said no, she tried, and she’d have no regrets.
    Still, she fought the urge to cry all night, wondering why nobody seemed to want her. Her own parents had moved away without looking back. Alex already assumed a relationship with her wouldn’t work out. Someday, someone, somewhere would treasure her and take a risk.
     
    ***
     
    The next morning, Alex used his key and woke Jenna early for a run. She dragged herself out of bed, majorly exhausted and minorly hungover, washed her face, yanked on her running gear, threw her hair into a ponytail, and grabbed her iPod, all without saying much to Alex. He set the coffee machine to brew while they were out, as he always did, and off they went.
    This time she took the lead. She refused to watch him from behind running away from her. She led them in a different direction, shaking things up a bit. Instead of stopping at their park, where they usually collapsed onto the grass and chatted for a while, she kept running, wondering if he even noticed. With each stride, she felt stronger but more irritated. Her feet pounded the pavement as sweat poured off her face.
    If Alex doesn’t want to be with me, it’s his loss , she thought over and over.
    Back at her apartment, they drank their coffee and made small talk. She refused to give him the satisfaction of her smile and then left him at her kitchen table. She lingered in the shower until she heard him locking the deadbolt on his way out.
    She dressed for work, opting for a suit and heels, and spent time doing her hair and makeup. Jenna felt less blah when she checked herself out in the mirror and decided she looked awesome. She grabbed her necessary gear, most importantly her travel coffee mug containing cup number two, and marched out of her apartment.
    Outside, the sun warmed the morning air and people filled the street. Jenna continued to feel less blah as she noticed various men checking her out.
    She settled on the train as her phone vibrated with a text message.
     
    Alex: Have a great day.
     
    Asshole. The word kept repeating in her head. Asshole. “He is a fucking asshole,” she whispered. Either nobody heard or they chose to ignore her. Jenna threw her phone back into her bag and concentrated on feeling awesome again.
    When the train stopped in Midtown, Jenna climbed the stairs to the street. Halfway up to street level, a man in a suit shoved her as he bolted up the stairs. Jenna stumbled, hitting her shoulder on the wall of the stairwell.
    She stared after the man in awe. That’s it , she thought, stomping up the stairs after him. Her blood boiled and her cheeks flamed hot. That’s it , she thought again. Then she yelled it.
    “That’s it!”
    She ignored the confused looks, and when she reached street level, she stood still in the middle of the busy sidewalk. Rushing commuters huffed and puffed as they formed footpaths around her.
    “Why do men suck?” she yelled. “Can someone please answer me?”
    In New York, crazy people yelling on the street don’t usually draw much attention, but some people