The First of the Signs

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."

-Albert Camus

Andy. What a misleading name. I mean, it sounds sweet, almost. Probably because it rhymes with candy. He actually said that to me once. It sounded so pathetic. We were cuddling on his couch, in what was one of our first "dates". It was still the get-to-know-each-other phase where we were both trying to decide whether to persue anything past the occasional booty call with one another-I was trying to play it cool, pretending that I didn't want anything serious but I knew as I snuggled into his chest that I would move in to his apartment if he asked. We hadn't seen each other in about a week and, testing the field, he said "you must have been sad without your Andy-candy." I'll never forget the way my face felt when he said that- instant disgust spread through my cheeks, crinkling my nose uncontrollably.

Did he really just refer to himself as Andy-candy? I thought, but I let it slide. People do that sometimes for people they think might be special. I probably should have known better, should have seen the signs.

We'd known each other since our freshman year of college. We were acquaintences, not friends. Friendly but not close. The morning after our first hook up (which didn't take place until we were both well into our sophomore year) we exchanged cell phone numbers and as he called me i realized that his number was already in my phone.
"Fuck?" he said. "You have me in your phone as "Fuck" What the fuck does that mean?"
I shrugged. I realized that this must have taken place at a party, while we were both blacked out drunk. "Fuck" made the possibilities endless-was it negative? did it refer to him as a fuck or as a person that I would like to fuck in the future? Either way, this seemed to be a bad start to anything other than a booty call. I did not heed the warning.