* * *
I leave. I don’t go home. Instead, I end up at the bookstore. I both want to be alone and don’t at the same time. This seems like a good compromise. It’s busy since it’s the weekend.
Settling into a small table by the window in the cafe, I browse through my phone listlessly. I feel like I’m spiraling out of control with nothing to ground me. I need gravity to pull me down again, to steady me.
I open my text conversation with Greg.
We had some quick, friendly chat the other day, but even when I mentioned my soulmate wasn’t interested, he just told me “good luck.” This is how it is between us, now. But maybe I can still hope. Maybe.
I feel so tired.
“Abby, you want a drink?”
I look up. Cassie’s last customer has just left to take a seat near the fiction section. “Oh,” I say, hesitating. “Sure.”
I grab my purse and head up, looking at the different flavors.
“You looked like you needed a pick-me-up,” Cassie says with a shy smile. “Three o’clock is around that time.”
“Yeah.” She and I haven’t talked much before; I’ve only worked here for a week or so, and she’s always in the cafe, so our paths don’t often cross. But she seems like a nice girl. “I’ll have a tall mocha. Please.”
“Sounds good. How are you liking working here?” she asks as she gets started on my drink.
“I like it,” I say honestly as I swipe my card through the reader. “I mean, I don’t think I want to work here my whole life unless there’s a major pay increase, but it’s a nice environment. I like it.”
“Maybe you could do a side hustle, too,” Cassie calls over the steaming milk. “Make a little extra cash.”
I’d thought she was super shy, but I guess no one can be that bad off when they work in retail, especially in the cafe. “Maybe.”
“You used to be an editor, right?”
“Proofreader, yeah.”
“Maybe you could be a freelancer?”
Huh. I consider this. “That’s not a bad idea. At least I could maybe make enough to pay for this drink!”
She smiles. “Exactly. You want whipped cream?”
“Pile it up.”
She does so, smiling as she hands it to me. “Here you go. You want your receipt?”
“Nah, I’m good. So is this your side hustle?”
“Oh, no. I’m starting my second year of college this fall. Almost everyone who works here is still in school.”
“Ugh,” I groan, eyes wide and disgusted. “I feel so old.” It feels weird, having these young kids showing me the ropes around here.
“How old are you?”
“26.”
“You’re still young!” she cries, but it feels more like she pities me than anything.
“Yeah, okay,” I murmur, swallowing down some of my whipped cream. I really should’ve just gotten a milkshake somewhere, considering I apparently didn’t have enough sugar despite the cake at the Perry household.
“It’s nice that you at least know Ethan, though.”
I look at her. “Yeah, but I have a feeling Ethan would’ve taken me under his wing regardless.” Realizing this sounds really cocky, I quickly add, “I mean, he’s that kind of person.”
“Is he?” Cassie asks, looking surprised. “I mean, he’s a nice guy, but he’s kind of distant.”
“Really?”
“You guys are childhood friends, though, so it makes sense that he’s a little different with you.”
“I guess,” I murmur. “What are you going to school for?”
We chat for a while until the next customer comes in line, and when they leave, we resume chatting. Honestly, it’s so great to talk to someone without feeling any pressure. I missed girl talk. I haven’t had that in a long time, especially with things being a little awkward with Beth right now.
“We should hang out sometime,” Cassie says suddenly. “We do group get-togethers after work every once in a while.”
In New York, while my coworkers and I occasionally went drinking, there wasn’t much camaraderie. “Oh,” I say, stunned. Immediately, my mind goes to all the ways I could screw this up. But I shove it down. “Yeah, I’ll come around sometime.”
“Great!” Cassie chirps, and I relax. For the first time in a long time, I’m not worried about soulmate stuff or my family or anything. I think I have a friend.
Chapter 14
“You should come over with us to Taco Tio’s,” Cassie says, eyes lighting up. “We’re all getting together tonight. You should invite Ethan.”
I’ve been living in Lake Redwood for a few months now. Halloween’s around the corner, and the break room is full of orange and black streamers from our potluck celebration the other day for breaking a record in sales. There was candy galore. It was amazing.
I open my locker - we never use locks, though we’ve all been assigned one - and fish out my purse, thinking. I haven’t had a chance to get together with anyone very much since I was too worried about bumping into Ethan. He and I haven’t spoken much outside of work, which is fine. Great, even. It’s good. Greg and I have been texting on and off, anyway, so I’m really fine, thank you.
“Why don’t you ask Ethan yourself?” I whisper, glancing past my locker door to see him chatting with Henry. It’s a rare night when he’s closing with us. He must not have work at O’Malley’s this evening.
“You know him better than we do, and he never comes if we invite him.”
I’m sure it’s just because he’s so busy with his other job, school, and his mother, but I’m not sure if I should share his business like that.
I frown at her. She grins hopefully at me.
“What are we talking about?” Jane asks as she approaches and opens her own locker. I’m glad she’s here; she and I haven’t had many shifts together lately. She’s older than Cassie by just a couple of years, finishing up her last year of college online. It’s nice to hang out with someone a little closer to my own age.
“Cassie wants me to invite Ethan out tonight. With the whole group, I mean.”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Jane asks her.
“Because he never comes out with us, you know that!”
I glance over at them. “If I’m going, he probably won’t.”
“Why do you say that?” Jane asks, but I’d rather not get into it.
“You really want me to ask him?”
“Literally everyone is going except him and John.”
“I’m guessing you don’t want me to invite John.”
Cassie smiles sheepishly. “Wouldn’t be much fun with the boss there.”
“Who else is going?” I ask.
“Leslie, Jenny, Peter, Jamal, and Leylian.”
I shrug. That’s a pretty big group; it should keep things from getting awkward. “Okay,” I say. “But it might not work.”
Taking a breath, I walk over toward Ethan and Henry. “Sorry to interrupt,” I cut in. “Are you guys going to Taco Tio’s tonight?”
“I am,” Henry says, grinning. “I’ve been starving all day.”
“Not me,” Ethan says, looking surprised to see me. “I should probably head home.”
“You should get out more, enjoy life. You don’t have your other job tonight, right? I’m sure you’d be okay going out for one night. Have fun. Live a little.”
He frowns at me, and I smile angelically. Or at least as angelically as I’m capable. Which probably isn’t much, honestly.
“Okay.”
I blink. “Really? Whoa.”
“What? Do you not want me to?”
“No no, I’m just…surprised. Okay. I’ll let the girls know.”
“Five bucks says you can’t finish a burrito before I do,” I hear Henry tell Ethan as I approach the ladies.
“He’s coming,” I tell the girls.
“Really,” Jane says, raising a brow. “That’s surprising.”
“That’s what I said!”
“I really think he’s into you,” Cassie says, grinning at me. Oh my gosh, was she actually trying to play matchmaker? Is that what that was? The little she-devil. I didn’t know she had it in her.
“I doubt that,” I mutter. “Hey, do you guys have any plans for Halloween?”
“Probably work,” they both say. I guess they haven’t checked our schedule yet, either.
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Never mind.”
Taco Tio’s is down by the boardwalk, like most of our best restaurants are. Except it’s not one of our best restaurants; it’s a cheap fast food joint with amazing salsa that helps hide the flavor of overcooked meat. It’s a perfectly legitimate choice, considering we’re all paid barely above minimum wage and most of the staff is still in school.
We hog several small tables, shoving them together. I sit between Cassie and Jane. I’ve talked to the other staff members, of course, but these two are still the ones I’m closest to. I feel more comfortable being in a large social setting with them. Most of these people I don’t see very often, as they work pretty few hours or are new hires for the holiday season.
“I’m so hungry,” Jamal moans, practically unhinging his jaw to try and stuff his burrito in his mouth, its innards falling out the other side as he bites into it. I can’t help but chuckle at him. It’s a welcome distraction from the fact that Ethan’s sitting across from me.
“Abby, are you staying in town for the holidays?” Leylian asks from down the row. I have to stretch forward in order to see her around the others’ heads.
“Yeah.”
“You’re not going to New York? I just figured you probably had friends there you’d want to see. Plus, I hear New York’s beautiful this time of year.”
“It is,” I say, ignoring the faint twist in my stomach. “They have all these displays in the windows. It’s awesome. But no, I’m not going. No sense wasting my money. I’m not very close to anyone there anymore, anyway.”
“Really?” Ethan asks.
I glance up at him. “Well, I talk to Greg sometimes.” It feels weird telling him this, like it’s a confession of infidelity. Which, of course, it most certainly is not. “But it’s not very often.”
“Who’s Greg? Is he hot?”
I scoff. Of course, Leslie would want to see. She’s one of the couple of older people with us, almost thirty-five. She begged to come along, claiming she needed a break from her husband and kids. She’s quite the romantic. I suspect she might be living vicariously through us.
I open my phone, pulling up Facebook. “I’ll find you a picture,” I say condescendingly, typing in his name into the search bar. It’s been a while since I’ve checked his profile. We usually just text and that’s it.
As I pull up his feed, I scroll through to try and find a nice, recent picture of him.
I find one.
I don’t show it to anyone, though. Not at first.
His face is resting against another woman’s. They’re both smiling as they take the selfie. They seem very close.
I scroll down.
It says he’s in a relationship. Since last week, apparently. I guess that’s why I haven’t heard from him in a while.
Huh.
“Well?” Leslie demands.
“Chill, woman,” Jamal says, and it looks like he’s about to get pelted with some corn.
“I’m trying to find a good picture,” I say. The lie flows so smoothly from my lips that it’s a little scary. “Um, here’s one.” It’s a simple picture of him grinning, holding up a book. I think he worked on it last year. He seems really excited.
Almost as excited as he seems in the new picture. With his girlfriend.
I hold up my phone, letting them pass it around. I take a bite of my taco in the meantime. I’m suddenly glad that I didn’t order very much. All I want is my phone back in my hands so I can hide it away from the rest of the world. I’m so stupid. I don’t even know what I feel or why I feel it. But I know a part of me is just embarrassed.
I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. He’s moving on. I need to, too. I can’t act all clingy just because I’m lonely. I can’t just throw myself at whoever’s available.
I look up as I chew, waiting (im)patiently for my phone to be returned, watching as it’s passed around. Some just glance at it quickly, while others, like my friends and Leslie, really stare.
To my surprise, when it’s passed Ethan’s way, he’s one of the people who really looks at it. I wonder what’s going through his mind right now. Is he sizing up the competition, or thinking, “Thank God it’s not me she’s obsessed with?” Maybe it’s simply curiosity. Like, “Huh. That’s who my soulmate was with. No big deal.”
He doesn’t say anything, though, just looks for a moment before passing it on. No one else really seems to linger, and my phone winds up back in my hands before long. I quickly close out of the app and turn off the screen. I’m being selfish again. I’m pathetic.
We start talking about other things, mostly about the stupid policies that corporate is trying to push for the holiday season and, for the others, how awful school has been.
“Ethan, you’re going into education, right?” Leslie says. “You must be almost done by now.”
“Yeah. I signed up for extra credits, so I should be done by spring.”
“That’s great. Are you going to be a teacher.”
“Oh, no. I’m probably going to try and work on curriculum development since there’s an educational textbook publisher a few towns over. It’s not too far away to commute.”
“Why not just move?”
“My mom’s health isn’t the best.”
“That’s so sweet, that you’re looking after her,” Leylian says, smiling at him. I look away, stuffing my face with food.
“She’d argue with you on that. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a nuisance.”
I peek up at Ethan. He’s still smiling, but I can see what Cassie means. I’ve noticed it before, of course, but it’s hard to tell when you’re working just how much of it is simply that he’s busy and doesn’t have time to chat, and how much of it is that he’s really withdrawn. I think he feels nervous with all these people, that’s all. Maybe he’s actually pretty shy? For some reason, that’s surprising, especially since he once was in the military. But now that I think about it, he never did spend much time with anyone outside his family besides my sister and, sometimes, me.
“How come you don’t want to teach?” Henry asks with a mouthful of food. “I think you told me before, but I forgot.”
Ethan shrugs. “It’s hard to find a job around here; our schools are so small.”
Huh. I thought he’d just wanted to go into curriculum development. I didn’t think he actually wanted to teach. “If you could teach anywhere,” I say, “where would you go?”
Ethan looks at me, startled. But after a moment, he says reluctantly, “I’d want to teach English as a second language in other countries.”
Now I’m startled. “Really? Any country in particular?”
“I’d like to teach somewhere in Africa. I think that’d be pretty cool, I guess. Or Eastern Europe.”
“I had no idea,” I say, which I immediately regret. It’s not like I know all that much about adult-Ethan, after all.
He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “It’s just one of those, ‘If I had a million dollars and unlimited resources’ things.”
I almost say that the purpose of a job is to make that million dollars; he’d still be working if he went. But I think he means resources and money for his mom to be taken care of while he’s gone. What a downer tonight is. Geez.
“How’s Tennerr going, Abby?” Howie asks me. “You started that a few weeks ago, right?”
I smile. “It’s actually going pretty decently. I made a couple hundred dollars.”
“Woo-hoo!” Cassie cheers, high-fiving me. Jane rolls her eyes but grins at me.
“That’s great,” Ethan says, drawing my attention. He’s beaming.
I feel like I haven’t seen that smile in a long time. “Is that with editing?”
I nod. “Yeah, people contact me if they need their story proofread and I charge them usually a set fee, unless they need me to do it faster than usual.”
“That’s great. Congrats.”
“Thanks. It’s not something I can live off of yet, but it’s a start. But I’m actually looking at working at that textbook publisher you mentioned. Quinn Press, right?”
He perks up. “Yeah. I had no idea you were interested. Beth never mentioned anything.”
Ah. So he has been seeing quite a bit of Beth. Good for them. “I haven’t told her. I’m not exactly advertising it much. I still haven’t decided if I’ll actually apply.”
“What’s stopping you?” Jane asks, sipping her pop.
“I don’t know if I want to stay in the area.”
She nods sagely. “I understand. God, I need to get out of here. There’s nothing to do. You can’t even date anyone unless you like farmers.”
“There’s nothing wrong with farmers, you snob,” Jamal points out, being one himself.
“My apologies,” Jane drawls. “Excuse me for wanting to talk about something besides fishing and cows.”
This sparks a debate among the whole table. Quite a few of our employees come from farms or aspire to own one. I don’t particularly care one way or the other about farming, though I can’t help smiling a little. It’s nice; every time I am with my coworkers, it occurs to me how different our dynamic is compared to what I had in New York. The only person I was really close to there was Greg.
The thought of him turns my stomach. Another thought is even worse: Did I cling to him just because I was lonely and wanted someone? I know I loved him, but how much of that was because I just wanted someone to hold me instead of actually choosing him?
Either way, what I feel right now sucks.
Or maybe it’s just the slightly discolored meat beneath the red salsa in my taco.
“I need to head out,” Ethan says, grabbing his tray and standing. “Thanks for inviting me out, guys.”
The argument pauses to assure him that he’s welcome anytime, and we’re glad he could make it. I send him a quick flutter of a smile before sipping on my water, expecting that to be the end of it.
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