Wildcard Wednesday
Character Vignette

Tory opened the refrigerator and there was no Nutella. A very distinct absence of Nutella. He looked over on the counter and the Nutella was there with the sign he had made: PLEASE DO NOT REFRIGERATE ME! I AM LE FRENCH! There was a little French flag on a toothpick taped to the side. He had been particularly proud of the flag. But Jodi wasn't here anymore to forget and put the Nutella in the fridge. He reached out to take the sign off, but then he stopped, left it, and closed the fridge.

The great Nutella fight of 2010 was the last fight he had with Jodi. It had been preceded by the You-Never-Do-Anything-Spontaneous fight. But worse than the fights had been telling her he loved her when he didn't mean it. Tory wasn't sure he loved anyone, really. At least, not romantically. What if he couldn't? What if he was broken? Maybe he had sold his soul to Satan and didn't remember. If he had, he wished he'd gotten a better deal.

Of course, maybe the worst part was Jodi leaving him for the hot male model in their art class. It was rough knowing the exact size of her new boyfriend. Stupid nude model with a rippling six-pack.

Tory sighed, but if he was being really honest, he wasn't heartbroken because Jodi didn't want him. He was just humiliated that she'd found someone so much better.

More than anything, Tory wanted to want someone. Maybe that was why he always messed it up.

Buzz! Tory jumped when his butt vibrated and fished his phone out of his pocket. "Feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Hello, Brenda."

"If I know you, you're thinking of seducing some poor girl just to make yourself feel like someone wants you."

Tory made himself comfortable on the floor. Jodi had taken all the chairs. He had forgotten he didn't really own any of the furniture. "I hardly think asking the cute barista at the coffee shop if she'd like to get a coffee counts as seduction."

"My God. Did that work?"

"She laughed."

"Pity laugh?"

"Maybe. But she gave me her number."

"Tory, I forbid you."

"Someone's possessive. Are you offering instead?"

"Sorry, breastfeeding. And the hubby's not into threesomes with two guys. Now, if you got a sex change..."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that. Hang in there, babe."

After Tory hung up the phone he switched to the contacts where he had put the barista's number. Should he?