by Claire Adams
"You have to be the only other person besides his mother who can make that claim," she quipped. I laughed.
"He isn't that bad once you get to know him," I said.
"Yeah, he's probably worse. Why the hell are you with this guy?"
"I told you, I like him."
"No, I mean really. He always cancels on you, nobody who knows you likes that you're with him, and he's a waste of your time. What is it? Do you really see boyfriend material when you look at him?"
"I just think he can change if he has the right...encouragement," I said.
"Are you two even exclusive?"
"No, but that's not the point. I don't want to just give up on him. I really feel like he has it in him to be a better guy."
"Honey, he doesn't have anything in him. You're projecting. He won't change, he doesn't care about you half as much as you do about him, and you let him get away with murder. Dump him," she said bluntly.
"The sex is good," I offered weakly.
"I don't believe that. It can't be good enough for you to entertain everything else. You're invested."
"Are you saying all this because you have a replacement for me?" I asked.
"Almost any guy would be a good enough replacement for that asshole." I laughed a little. I could hear what she was saying. If I found it funny when she roasted him, instead of wanted to defend him, yeah, I was thinking the same thing she was.
"Point one out to me. I swear, finding a good guy is fucking impossible."
"They're either taken or gay," Tiffany agreed solemnly.
"Oh, shut up. You have a date every single weekend," I sniped playfully.
"Yeah, but how many guys stick around longer than that?" she challenged.
"Whatever. Don't tie yourself down. You're still young," I said loftily.
"You're older than me by nine months, grandma," she joked.
"Yeah, but I already know what a great relationship feels like. It's hard not to look for that in other guys," I said.
"You and Rome?" she asked.
I nodded. I heard one time that you need half the duration of a relationship to get over it. According to that theory, I wasn't over Roman yet. I needed another six or seven months before I was. I wasn't sure about all that. I felt over it. I hadn't seen him since he had dumped me, and he had made himself pretty clear about what he had wanted then so I hadn't spent a lot of time hanging on to something that wasn't there. I don’t love you anymore; that was what he had said. It had hurt at the time, but what was clearer than that?
"It's a little hard not to compare when I'm with someone new. We were both young and almost three years felt like such a long time."
"Looking for Roman in every guy you meet is a recipe for disaster," she said.
"I know that. I just can't treat it like it didn't happen, like it didn't change all the standards I thought I had for guys before meeting him."
"If it's like that, then why are you still with Sean? Fixer-uppers aren't cute, they're work. They just hold you back while making you put up with their bullshit. The fact that you believe they can change just means they really don't have to. You'll be there for them either way."
"Is this an intervention?"
"Yes," she said confidently, sitting up straighter. "I think you should see other people."
"No," I said quickly.
"Come on, you said he was dating other girls. If you two haven't agreed on being exclusive, then what's the problem?"
"I don't want to juggle a bunch of guys. I'm not built like that."
"Don't give Sean boyfriend privileges when he isn't your boyfriend. Just go out on a date with someone."
"Hello? Didn't we just say that all the good guys are either taken or gay?"
"I know a guy from work who I think you might like."
"What are you gonna do? Set us up? Blind date style?"
"One date, Vee. Just one date," she insisted.
"If he's such a good guy, why don't you go out with him?"
"We work together. I don't shit where I eat," she said smirking. "So?"
"I appreciate the help, but it's still a pass," I said.
"Tell me, what is Sean doing right now?" she asked.
"I don't know. I didn't ask him."
"Does he know what you're doing?"
"No. Where are you going with this?"
"Did he even reschedule? Act interested in making it up to you some other time?"
"I ignored his phone calls," I admitted.
"Then that means you feel it, too. Just let me set you up. Most guys who are worth anything won't leave you hanging after making you wait for them."
I sighed. Things with Sean were... They weren't good, but they weren't really that bad, either. Tiffany was right. If I could let his phone calls go unanswered, that meant I wasn't as into him as I was trying to convince her or myself that I was.
"Who is this guy from your work?" I asked.
"Don't worry, you'll love him," she said.
"Can you at least tell me what he looks like?"
"Trust me, Vee. I think I know you well enough to know what you're into."
"Just don't set me up with a married guy," I said, giving in. What was the worst that could happen? I thought. I wasn't cheating on Sean by seeing other people and even if this guy Tiffany knew was a piece of trash, I didn't have to see him for more than the one date I had agreed to go on. If he wasn't, hey, at least I'd get to feel what it was like to make plans with a guy for a date and have him actually show up the way he said he would. A couple hours passed before Tiffany had to leave.
It was barely nightfall, but I didn't have plans to go out again. I went to my room to take my make-up off. I'd probably whip something up for dinner, lose a few hours to HGTV, then call it a night. My purse hadn't made it all the way back to my room after the botched date with Sean. I sat it on my nightstand, opening it up to see whether I had any loose receipts, then I saw it.
The pink was muted but still beautiful and clear. It was rose quartz; I found that out after showing it to Tiffany for the first time. That was also when I found out she hadn't helped him pick it out. The chain was still shiny and new, probably because I didn't wear it that much anymore. Or at all – I didn't wear it at all anymore. The gold chain and pink stone caught the light and shone up at me from the open space of the nightstand drawer that I had forgotten to close.
It had almost been a casualty when I was clearing all Roman's stuff out practically a year ago. I had a lot of his clothes, he had a toothbrush here, and there was this mug that he always used when he would come over. I wanted to burn all of it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had ended up donating the clothes, throwing out the toothbrush, giving away the mug, and burying the necklace in a forgotten drawer.
I recovered it when I was moving into this place and again, didn't have the heart to throw it out. I had gotten over the relationship, but it hadn't been long enough for me to stop seeing it as a piece of jewelry Roman had given me because we had been in love.
The way it had ended made it easy for me to be bitter. Hearing him tell me I didn't have a place in his life anymore was sometimes enough to poison every kind, loving thing he had said to me since we had started going out.
The necklace was objectively beautiful, with or without its backstory. I could think of it independently of him. One day, I'd even be able to wear it again. I closed the drawer and went back into the kitchen to make something for dinner.
Chapter Seven
Roman
I wasn't sure what time it was, but if I had to guess, maybe some time after five but before six. My body just didn't know how to sleep in anymore.
It had started after basic training, those five a.m. mornings had stayed with me and even when I was up late the night before, I could never really manage to sleep in longer than seven or eight in the morning, still fairly early by civilian standards. That should have been a good thing, but I didn't want to be up at five in the morning. For once I didn't have to be.
&n
bsp; I had expected the jetlag to last longer, but I hadn't really been feeling it too bad. I faded in and out for a while, figuring I might as well make the most of it. I wasn't going to spend the whole summer doing this; I had to go back to school at some point. I wasn't technically a dropout until I decided for sure that I wasn't going to go back to get my degree.
To be honest, I wasn't feeling that stressed about it. Football had been the thing I had come to college to do. Since I was a year older and hadn't practiced in so long, I was more worried about making up for lost time than my half-finished business degree.
When I opened my eyes again after drifting off for a second, I had to take a couple seconds to notice that the thing I was looking at was a person, standing by the bed. Tiffany slowly came into focus, looking down at me with her hands on her hips.
"Get out of my room," I said to her.
"This hasn't been your room for five years. You get out."
"Shut up, I just got back home," I said, laying on my back so I could look up at her.
"What kind of twenty-two-year-old man still lives with his dad?" she teased.
"You still live here," I said.
"I'm a girl, it's different."
"How?"
"I'm younger than you."
"So what? You need to get out there and experience the real world," I said, teasing her back.
She still lived at home, but she was right, it was a little different. She wasn't freeloading. She worked part time when she was going to class and full time when she wasn't. She ran errands and went shopping, things that like to help since she wasn't paying rent to her own landlord. It probably helped that she was a girl and was the youngest. Dad wouldn't kick her out. I was glad she still lived at home and was actually a little worried about what would happen when she graduated. If she wanted to move out, he'd live alone.
Mom had been gone for a long time, but if I wasn't here and Tiff wasn't, either, he'd be completely on his own. I didn't really like thinking of him that way. It was good knowing that he wasn't alone in this house.
"Dad likes me. He just wants you to leave," she said.
"But I just got back," I complained jokingly.
"It's been two days. Plenty of time. Get up, we have places to go."
"Where?"
"You need to move out, my friend. You're too old to still come home to your pops every night,"
"You’re gonna put me up somewhere?" I asked her.
"We're finding you a house," she announced. I laughed a little. Same old Tiff.
Our mom dying hit us both in different ways. I became protective of her, but then she became the person who tried to make sure everything was going smoothly. It had kicked whatever latent house-manager skills she had inside her into high gear. If losing Mom had made me cautious about who she hung out with, it had made her feel like making sure everyone was happy was her job.
"How are you going to do that?"
"I'm not doing anything, we're doing it together. And the first thing you need to do is get your ass downstairs. Hurry up, you're driving," she said, leaving with a smirk.
She definitely wasn't wrong about me needing to leave. I was used to having my own space, and I didn't need to be staying here. Dad was just nice enough to let me. I had had a couple down days, but it wasn't going to last, being in my own place, probably somewhere closer to campus since I'd be going back soon was a good idea.
Also, I was way too old to not be able to bring girls home because I lived in my dad's place – I wasn't going to argue with her there. I was dressed in ten minutes, and we were out the door in twenty.
I drove while she read out the addresses and features of the properties we were going to visit. The first place was an open house. It was big, so I knew already that I didn't want it. Tiff still insisted that we at least look at it. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a backyard. The real estate agent mentioned family and the school district enough times for me to let him know we weren't a couple. People made that mistake sometimes. After that, he flirted shamelessly with Tiff until we left.
The next one was being rented out by the owners, an older couple who lived one house down. It was better; still too big, but in my budget. Too bad it was almost all the way out in Richmond Heights. Trying to get to school from there just wouldn't be worth it. It was lunch by the time we had finished seeing and rejecting house number three for much the same reason. We stopped at a cafe before heading to the last one.
Even though the whole morning had been unsuccessful, it had been nice having someone to do this with. Tiff talked about school, her job managing a restaurant when she wasn't in class, asked me what I was doing next now that I was back. I noticed she never brought Veronica up, and I left it alone this time.
"This one better be good," I threatened Tiff as we finally pulled up to the last house. It was another one that the owners were renting out. It was a single story with no garage. It had a small back and front yard and just two bedrooms. This owner was a woman not that much older than us, renting it since she had gotten married and was moving out of state with her husband.
"It's smaller than the others, but the owner was really nice when I talked to her. I thought it was worth a shot," Tiff said. I was living alone so really one bedroom was all I needed; the other would just stay empty. The owner, Gloria, led us through the space. The kitchen was small but big enough, central cooling and heat, two bathrooms, one attached to the master bedroom, and it was a fifteen-minute drive to school.
"I think this is the one," I whispered to Tiff as the tour came to an end. Gloria was apologetically telling us about some fire damage that the house had gotten twenty years ago. I didn't care. I was sold.
"Are you sure? I can come up with some more places to see tomorrow."
"We'll take it," I said loudly, cutting Gloria off.
"You will?" she asked, relieved that I was taking the place off her hands.
"How soon can we put it on paper?" I asked. Tiffany tried to interrupt, but I didn't let her. This was the place. Chances were it was going to be temporary, but I still liked it. It had character. Gloria said I could sign for it immediately if I was ready. Half an hour later, Tiff and I were back in her car on the way to my dad's house. I had to pack; I was going to start moving out the next day.
"I still think you should have held out," she said from the passenger seat.
"You didn't like it? Good. That means I don't have to deal with you coming over to hang out," I joked.
"As long as you like it, I guess," she said. "The kitchen was small, but it had a nice stove. The little patio out the back was cute, too, you know; for dates and stuff," she said.
"Dates? I haven't been on one of those for years."
"I think you should get back out there."
"I just got back, Tiff."
"But you were deployed. Wasn't it just a sausage-party for a whole year over there?"
"There are female service members, Tiffany," I said, shaking my head.
"They don't count. You can't get hot and heavy in the middle of a war zone," she said.
"Please stop," I said, not really wanting to discuss my sex life with my little sister. I didn't want to tell her she was right, I hadn't been with anyone since Veronica, but I also didn't really want to tell her what a lot of other people got up to when we were deployed. When you put men and women together in one place for a long time, the inevitable happened. Sometimes with other service members, sometimes with locals, mostly consensual, but sometimes not. That was what nobody liked to bring up when they talked about deployed service members overseas.
"I'm just saying, you should go on a date. Start meeting people again."
"Tiffany, first you play real estate agent and then you play matchmaker? What gives? Why are you trying to get rid of me?"
"I'm not. I just thought you would maybe like to get into a normal routine. Meeting people, having normal relationships, and becoming a civilian again. I don't know what you saw over there or what they m
ade you do. It's just... I've heard what happens to a lot of veterans when they come back home."
"Tiff, you have nothing to worry about, really," I insisted.
"It's still going to make me feel better if I know you're doing normal stuff and can still talk to people."
"What do you think happened over there?"
"Come on, Roman," she said sulkily. She was serious. I could tell she meant what she said when she said she was worried about me. I didn't want to tell her not to be because that wouldn't convince her.
"I'm fine. I swear. Just to show you. I'll go on this date with your work friend."
"She's great, you're gonna love her."
"Whoa, I said I would go on a date with her. No one said anything about love."
"Whatever, you know what I mean. She's a nice girl. I know you'll hit it off."
I admired her confidence, but the jury was out on that one. I didn't know who this person was that she was introducing me to, and besides, all I had agreed to have was a date. Just one. I had just gotten back and just gotten a house. I was still getting my feet back under me; I wasn't trying to date, get a girlfriend and shit. I needed to set myself up before I could start dating again.
That said though, dinner with a pretty girl... I wasn't going to say no to that. Yeah, deployment wasn't a sausage party, but the guys outnumbered the girls and since we weren't there to eat dinner, chat, and have a good time, spending time with a girl on a date would be nice. Maybe I had been out of the game too long.
Chapter Eight
Veronica
Summer used to be my favorite time of the year. Most people felt the same way, but I loved the free time. I always worked over summer, but I liked that I wasn't thinking about school all the time. My mind could wander, and I could think about the future, daydream, and fantasize. The looser days were a relief after the busy semesters; I always looked forward to the vacation.
That was until last summer, of course. Summer last year came right on the heels of Roman dumping me and the good weather hadn't been enough to drag me out of the post-break up oblivion I disappeared into for a month and a half. The more I thought about it, the worse it seemed to dump someone right before summer, go off and have a great time, while they cried alone in bed for weeks.