Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over

by Shani Petroff

  Then I saw it—the text from Zev.

  Oh.

  The texts kept coming; she didn’t listen. Bethanne and everyone else kept responding. I got to the text that was sent while we were on the plane:

  Anger, surprise, relief, sadness, hurt, all rushed through me.

  I handed the phone back to Zev.

  “See it was all a big misunderstanding,” he said.

  I shook my head. He was talking like this was behind us, like now all could be forgotten, but it couldn’t. I was still a wreck from everything that happened. That didn’t just go away.

  “Zev, it’s not that easy.”

  “Why not? We were fine on the plane—nothing changed. You read a text that I had nothing to do with. This isn’t my fault.”

  He just didn’t get it. “You hurt me,” I told him, “I don’t think you understand that.”

  “Sari, I’ve been doing everything to get you back. You’re the one who went off on me when I didn’t do anything. You don’t think that hurt? You wouldn’t even hear me out; you just jumped to conclusions. You were willing to throw us out over nothing.”

  “It wasn’t nothing. I saw you kissing another girl. A girl who then posted a picture of the two of you together for the whole school’s entertainment.”

  He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And I explained what happened, and you said you got it.”

  “That was before the text.”

  He threw up his hands. “The text was nothing. You know that now.”

  We were going in circles. “But I didn’t a minute ago—I thought it was true. If I’m always going to be doubting everything you do, how can we ever work?”

  “Because we love each other. You trusted me before. Let’s just go back to that.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  He stood up and leaned back against the wall. “This is absurd. Sari, listen to yourself.”

  “How about you listen to me. You have not let up on me all day; you are everywhere. I can’t even think straight, Zev. I have the biggest break of my career tomorrow, and all I can focus on is you. I barely practiced. I can’t even do my best song because it makes me cry—and I blame you for that.”

  “That’s not my fault.”

  He kept saying that, and it made me want to blow. “But it feels like it.”

  His face was turning red. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Sari.”

  Zev was still up against the wall, looking down at me. I felt small, like nothing I said mattered. He just kept pressing. I couldn’t think. It was like he needed me to have everything figured out this second and that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t fair. I turned away from him.

  “Sari…”

  I clutched Ruby to my chest and stared down the steps at the cold, hard concrete below me. If he needed an answer right now, there was only one I could give.

  “Maybe you should just go to Bethanne’s party,” I said.

  There was a pause, and his voice hardened. “Maybe I should.”

  Then he walked up the stairs and out the door, letting it slam behind him.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  I felt like I was in a daze. Somehow I managed to get Ruby back in her case, but then all I could do was sit there, my face in my hands.

  What happened?

  There was so much to process, but I just felt numb. The texts, the fight, the storming off, I couldn’t even begin to comprehend it all. Was this what I wanted? Did it make a difference? It wasn’t up to me anymore, anyway. I told him to go to Bethanne’s, and he said okay.

  Maybe I should, maybe I should, maybe I should. The words played back in my head in stereo.

  I got up, and slowly made my way up the stairs. This was probably for the best. It just hurt so much because the wound was still fresh. It would scab over soon, and eventually it would heal.

  I headed back to the room. I’d given Zev enough of a head start.

  I put my key card in the slot, but the light wouldn’t turn green. “Please,” I whispered. I didn’t want to knock. I didn’t want to deal with Zev again. I didn’t want to go all the way back to the lobby. I just wanted to get back under the covers.

  I tried the card again.

  Still nothing. I collapsed against the door. Why couldn’t anything go right?

  Gram flashed in my head, and I made myself stand up straight. I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. “I am capable, confident, and can do whatever I put my mind to,” I whispered to myself.

  Zev didn’t define me.

  I was fine before I met him, and I was fine now. I was done with the self-pity. I tried the card three more times, and it finally worked.

  I walked inside with my head held high. Dylan and Fitz were still asleep. As for Zev, he was back on the sofa, pretending he was asleep, too. He must have finally reached a point where he didn’t want to talk to me any more than I wanted to talk to him. It’d been what I’d been asking for all day … all week, even. But now it didn’t feel like a win. It didn’t feel like anything. I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t angry. I just was done.

  THIRTY-SIX

  I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, sun was streaming into the room and Dylan and Fitz were saying something to each other on the bed next to me.

  I wiped the sleep out of my eyes.

  “Did we wake you?” Dylan asked, noticing me stir.

  “No, I’m up.”

  “We were waiting to see if you wanted to go grab breakfast,” Fitz said. He was already showered and changed. “They have a buffet.”

  I looked over at the sofa. Zev was gone; he must have been down there. “I’ll head that way with you, but I’m just going to wait in the lobby for Trina.” I checked the time. I still had awhile before she got here, but I couldn’t handle another awkward scene. And spending the morning pretending to ignore Zev or sitting at his table like everything was fine both qualified.

  Fitz insisted on taking my suitcase down, even though I told him I could manage.

  “Sure you don’t want some breakfast?” he asked, once we were downstairs.

  “It’s free,” Dylan threw in.

  “I could bring you something if you’re trying to avoid Zev,” Fitz offered.

  Here he was being Captain America all over again. I guess sometimes first impressions were right. “Thank you. I’m okay, really.” And to my own surprise, that was actually the truth. I must have cried myself out. “I’m just going to take one of those apples at the front desk and maybe raid the vending machine, then sit outside and wait for Trina.” It stopped raining, and fresh air seemed really nice. I had been cooped up for far too many hours. “Thank you, guys, for everything. Both of you, really. You’re amazing.”

  I went in to give Fitz a hug.

  “This isn’t good-bye,” he said, squeezing me back. “When is your friend getting here?”

  “Not sure.” She’d texted fifteen minutes ago to say she’d be leaving as soon as humanly possible.

  “Well, let us know when she gets here,” he said. “And do not leave until we come back down, so we can say a real good-bye.”

  I nodded. This trip wasn’t all bad. I did get to meet Fitz and Dylan, and after what they helped me through, I already counted them as friends.

  “Promise?” Dylan said.

  “Yeah, I promise.”

  “And not like one of those promises you gave your mom,” he said, and winked at me. “Don’t want to have to text Zev to track you down.”

  “Too soon, man,” Fitz said, shaking his head, but he was laughing.

  “I thought it could go either way,” he answered. His voice was light and playful, and I couldn’t help but laugh, too.

  I dragged my stuff outside and toward a bench near the entrance to the hotel. The sweet, pungent, distinct smell of a storm was still in the air, but the sky was clear, and I finally felt like I could breathe again.

  I sat down and took in the openness around me. No more walls or pla
nes or car doors trapping me. It felt good. I pulled out Ruby and started playing. I was ready for tonight. I felt it.

  “That was great,” a woman said, when I finished my third song.

  I hadn’t even realized I had an audience.

  “Thanks.”

  “You should stick with it,” she said, before heading to her car. “You’ve got talent.”

  Today was already off to a much better start than yesterday.

  About forty-five minutes later a familiar car pulled into the lot.

  I jumped up.

  Finally—Trina was here!

  I didn’t even put Ruby away, I just raced with her to greet my best friend.

  I practically jumped on Trina when she got out of the car.

  “Hi,” I said, giving her the longest hug in the world. “I am so glad you’re here.”

  “You’re going to be happier when you see what I brought you.”

  She reached into the car and pulled out a pair of flip-flops.

  “My savior,” I said, and took off my sandals and put them on. Other than the tennis shoes I had thrown out, every pair of shoes that I packed had a heel. While they weren’t as bad as the pumps I was stuck in yesterday, my feet were craving flats.

  “Should we grab your stuff and get you out of here?” she asked.

  “Yes! But I promised the guys I’d say good-bye first.”

  “Ooh,” she said and wiggled her eyebrows. “I get to meet your mystery men.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  I texted Fitz:

  We’re. That probably meant Zev, too.

  My fears were confirmed when they entered the lobby a few minutes later. It was Dylan and Fitz with Zev hanging behind. But that was okay. I was fine. I could handle seeing him. I’d have to do it every day in school until graduation, so I might as well get used to it now.

  Trina was not feeling nearly as benevolent. Not only did she totally ignore Zev, but she gave the other two a giant smile. She didn’t wait for an introduction. “I’m Trina. You must be Dylan and Fitz,” she said, extending her hand. “Just as hot as Sari told me you were.”

  I shook my head. I knew she was doing this for Zev’s benefit. If I wasn’t going to flirt with Fitz and Dylan in front of him, she was going to do it for me. She was as pissed at my ex as I was, maybe more.

  “Ignore her,” I said. “She speaks the truth, but ignore her.” I gave Fitz and Dylan each a hug good-bye. “Thanks again for everything.” I was so happy to be leaving, and yet a part of me felt sad. What if this was the last time I saw them? I wanted to hang out again, but I was just a high school senior with boyfriend issues. There was a good chance they’d want nothing more to do with me once we were back in the real world.

  “Anytime,” Dylan said. “Break a leg tonight. We’d come if it wasn’t Gina’s party.”

  “But we’ll definitely be at your next one,” Fitz added.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I’d like that.” I was going to make an extra effort to keep up the friendship. I had to. Dylan and Fitz were the silver lining to this whole fiasco.

  Trina took my backpack and Ruby, and I pulled up the handle of my suitcase and headed toward the car. I looked back at the guys one more time and waved good-bye.

  Zev didn’t acknowledge me, he hadn’t all morning, but I hadn’t addressed him, either. We were just two people who no longer had anything to do with each other.

  I grabbed my phone and wallet and put the rest of my stuff in Trina’s trunk. I got in the car, then texted my mom before she’d have a chance to send Zev another missive.

  “Want to grab bagels and coffee for the road?” Trina asked. “I passed a little place on the way here.”

  “That sounds perfect. You read my mind,” I said, putting away my phone.

  We drove out of the parking lot and away from Zev.

  The bad part of the trip was behind me, I was one step closer to home, and I had my best friend beside me to get me there.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  A coffee, bagel with gobs of cream cheese, my best friend—all was right again.

  “Okay,” Trina said, as she pulled onto the highway. “When you told me Dylan and Fitz were hot. I didn’t know you meant hot hot. Their GroupIt pictures do not do them justice. Keisha is going to be all over you about a hookup.”

  “I’ll totally do that,” I said. “Dylan’s taken, but I’ll work on Fitz.”

  “Then she’ll owe us one,” she said, sounding a little sinister.

  “How are things going between you two?” I asked.

  “They’re actually … wait,” she said, and bit her lip. “How are you doing? You and Zev didn’t even look at each other. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “No.” I took a long sip of my coffee. “I am so talked out. I don’t even want to think about him anymore. I am sick of me. Please, tell me about you. Fill me in on everything.”

  She looked at me skeptically.

  “Seriously, Trina, talk to me. Tell what I missed while I was busy being all poor me and a horrible friend.”

  “You were not a horrible friend. You had a hard week. This is what we do for each other. We show up. Like you did when my grandfather died.”

  Trina had been a wreck. She and her grandpa had been incredibly close.

  “And you when Quinn did that whole Jabba the Hutt thing,” I said.

  “You when I panicked and almost didn’t go in to take my SATs. We could do this all day. But the point is, you don’t need to thank me or apologize. This is us.”

  She was right. “So are you going to tell me what’s been going on or what?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I wanted to hear fun stories and laugh and put yesterday behind me.

  Trina told me more about the books she read over break (she got five in—two rom-coms, a fantasy, a sci-fi, and one nonfiction about mechanical engineering). She gave me her mini reviews. They all sounded like things I’d be interested in except the last one, which was totally out of my league. The rest she sold me on. Some people went to Goodreads for recommendations, I didn’t need to. I had Trina.

  She filled me in on what she and Mike were up to. They saw the latest superhero blockbuster. She had a family day, they went to her aunt and uncle’s to celebrate her little cousin’s birthday. And then there was the NYU party with her sister. “It’s weird,” she said, “I never really thought of Keisha as a friend, just a know-it-all big sister, but she’s actually been nice—and fun. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still acting all you need to listen to me, but it’s different.”

  “That’s amazing.” I always liked Keisha. I wouldn’t mind hanging out with her more, especially if I could make her and Fitz happen.

  “And you know that dress of hers? The one I salivate over that she never lets me touch?”

  “The one that’s like a Greek goddess dress?”

  “Yes,” she said, practically jumping in her seat. “Guess who gets to wear it to prom?”

  “No way! Trina, you are going to look stunning. You have to try it on for me.”

  “We’ll have a little fashion show and figure out how we’re going to wear our hair and do our makeup,” she said.

  “Sounds good.” Only, I had no idea what I was going to do about prom now. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to go anymore. Trina, Trevor, and the rest of our group would never let me stay home, but it wasn’t going to be the way I had envisioned it. I did already have a dress, though. Floor length, emerald green, with a cinched waist and a cut-out above the chest. I saw it before homecoming, but it was too expensive, so I started stalking it online, waiting for it to go on sale. When it did, I snatched it up.

  “Oh my God,” Trina said, lightly hitting the steering wheel. “I can’t believe I brought up prom today.”

  “It’s fine. Really.” It was just one of those things I was going to have to get used to. It was probably for the best that I get accustomed to it now.

  This time she was
the one to change the subject. “What are you wearing tonight?” she asked. “It’s your big performance. You need something killer.”

  “I was going to wear this,” I said, and gestured to my current dress. “But since I’ll have lived in it for more than twenty-four hours, I think something else is in order.”

  “Good call,” she said. “What about a pair of nice jeans and that red top, the super cleavagey one?”

  It was one of my favorites, but it sometimes fell a little too low and needed readjusting, I didn’t want to have to deal with a wardrobe malfunction during my first real gig. “Not for this one. Maybe my black-and-white tank?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Seems a little casual.”

  I really had no idea what to wear.

  “I got it,” Trina said. “Your talent show dress. You haven’t worn it in ages, and it looks beautiful on you.”

  It was a blue wrap dress that was the same shade as my eyes. I hadn’t tried it on in a while, but I was pretty sure it would still fit. “I think that might be the one,” I said.

  I was getting excited. This was really happening. I was performing at Meta! We went over my hair—down and wavy. My jewelry—minimal. Just a pair of gold hoops. Shoes—ballet flats. Definitely no heels.

  “I think you’re all set,” she said.

  “Just have to calm my nerves.” It wasn’t stage fright, just jitters over my first real legit gig.

  “I know what to do for that.”

  Trina punched up a cringe-worthy love-to-hate pop song on her stereo and blasted the volume. She didn’t have to tell me what to do. We both started singing as loud as we could, letting our voices fill the car while we danced in our seats.

  “Look out the window,” Trina said a little while later, breaking up our car concert.

  We were exiting the FDR Drive onto Second Avenue. We were in the city! I was back. I felt a sense of relief as we drove by the familiar buildings, restaurants, and bodegas. Manhattan never looked so good.