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entire day just to get my heart broken. I should have stayed home and continued living in my fantasy where Ray and I were still a couple.
    Ignoring my silence, Finn carried on. “It’s hard to explain this, but if you had to rate Chrissy, we can agree that she’s a 10, right? When she goes out, how many times do you figure she gets hit on?” he asked. “Truthfully now, you don’t have to worry about my feelings, I know she’s hot.”
    I shrugged. “I don’t know, at least a 10, yeah,” I answered, hoping he would shut up, but he just kept on talking.
    “The way I look at it is that girls are rated by the number of times they’re hit on a day. So if you’re a five you get hit on five times a day and so on.”
    I’m getting advice from a rock musician , I thought, as he rambled on. The universe has reached untold depths of absurdity.
    “All you girls have to do is just sit there being all beautiful and reject us guys, over and over again. Do you ever stop to think how many times a guy has to get rejected before some foolish girl finally gives in and says yes?”
    Growing impatient with Finn, I turned my head and glared into his face. “Do you have a point?”
    “Simmer down, Old Yeller, I’m getting to it.” He laughed.
    I playfully threw an old empty water bottle at him. It bounced off his black jacket and landed on the passenger floor board. I bent down to pick it up when my phone vibrated. It was Ray. Time for me to reject his calls , I thought as I slid my finger across the screen, silencing it.
    “Do you know I spent two years listening to Ray babble on about you in high school?” Finn asked me, taking on a more serious tone. “Ever since you guys met, he never shut up about you.”
    Ray and I had met in math class during our freshman year in high school. Our teacher, Mr. Roman, had put us together in a small group, and when Ray asked me my name, he cringed at my response.
    I gave him a funny look and he responded, “When I hear the name Sidney, all I can think of is the main character in the movie, Scream— you know, Sidney Prescott. You’re like a hundred times prettier than her.”
    He shrugged and went back to finish his math problem.
    I sat there and thought to myself, I’m a hundred times prettier than Neve Campbell, the beautiful model and actress? What is wrong with this guy?
    I looked around for a Golden Retriever, figuring he must be blind.
    From that day on he always called me Sid. He could have called me Neve too. I wouldn’t have minded that name, either.
    Back then, Ray was a scrawny fifteen year old boy that wasn’t much to look at. But his kindness and sensitivity toward others is what drew me to him. He was the oldest child in his family with two younger sisters. His dad worked as an electrician and his mom was a homemaker. They were a devoted Catholic family that attended church on Sundays and never missed their faithful family dinners after Mass.
    Ray and I were also bus partners, so we became good friends. It didn’t hurt our relationship when we discovered we both took the same bus to school. Soon, our morning routine consisted of me saving him a seat on the bus and hanging out on campus before school started. Over the next few years he transformed into a man before my eyes. During the summer going into our junior year he and his closest friends, along with Rich, formed a band and practiced in his parents’ garage every evening after school.
    On Wednesdays, I joined his family for dinner and then we studied together. It was the only time I truly felt as if I was a part of an actual functioning family. They were always so kind and welcoming. I would hang out afterwards and listen to the boys practice their music in the garage.
    By that time, Ray was five foot eleven inches tall and 180 pounds of muscle. When he gripped the microphone with both hands, placing his lips inches from the transmitter, he would glance over at me and I would easily feel as if I were the only one in