three months of summer. guess that meant your fling with chris was over. summer’s already over now.

you didn’t really know about this fling. after all— he just needed something to keep himself occupied with. but, you couldn’t just keep that to the side for now on— your mind was driving you crazy and so was the damned heat. you slipped up and called chris “baby”. whoops. did that one too many times.

you couldn’t really let it go. it’s not like he told you this wasn’t a real thing goin’ on. almost everyone knows that what happens over summer, isn’t really real. summer is over, and chris is not coming over anymore.

messages not going through “not delivered” popping up underneath your text and calls going to voicemail— fuck, this man is messing with your head. summer is fading.

“what?” a groggy mumble and a yawn came out from the other line. this was the eighth time you’d call and just a fuck ass “what?”. “though i told you, ma, this shit ends after summer.”