It was just once. Ok, maybe it was two or three times. Never out loud though. It was only in her head. Only when she was thinking about him.
Could she really be blamed? Habits died hard. That was all it was, a fact she knew for a sure. No feelings lingered, no longings plagued her. She was happy.
So why did she keep thinking the wrong name?
Sitting across the table from him, she flashed a slightly nervous smile. Could he tell? It felt like there was some neon sign flashing above her head that told everyone in no uncertain terms that she had accidentally thought of the man she was thoroughly fascinated with by the wrong name. She had never said the wrong name, and she wouldn't. She made a conscious effort to remind herself.
He looked at her, a slight frown of concern drawing his brows together as he tilted his head. Please, just let him not ask. If he did she would have to think of a lie. Think of something else to say, some excuse to give. There was certainly no way she could admit what was truly bothering her. They were best friends, they talked all the time. What the heck was wrong with her?
Why couldn't her thoughts keep his name straight?
The worst thing was that the name that kept popping into her thoughts was the name of a guy she had broken up with long before. She was well rid of him. Had, in fact, turned him down since they had called it quits. There was nothing residing there, no love left. It made no sense that his name would pop into her head.
The fact that it did bothered her. Was there really something deep down? No, there couldn't be. Not a chance. Fine, she believed that.
So maybe the question was why wouldn't the new guy's name stick?
Her head jerked up and she blinked in confusion at the guy sitting across the table from her. He gave her another worried frown, then continued on with his dialogue. He was so funny that way.
She did it again! Just then. The wrong name! What on earth was wrong with her? She was supposed to be listening to this explanation he was giving her about... something. Instead she was starting a litany of his name over and over in her head.
Not that she thought it would necessarily work. The problem was simply that the wrong name was one she had said and thought for a long time. It was easy to remember. It crept up on her and ambushed her. Stupid name.
It was just embarrassing. She would never say it, never let the wrong name pass her lips. But she thought it, with him sitting right there in front of her. It made things a little awkward. Only in her head, of course, but still.