Phoebe Berman's Gonna Lose It(29)

I try to take a deep breath so I don’t say something I’ll regret.

“You’re still doing that list thing?”

List thing.

The verbal punch to the gut knocks the wind out of me and renders me speechless.

Nora continues. “You’ve been nonstop about how ‘Finn is the one’ and you’re mad that I talked to a random guy on the street?” She looks genuinely confused, which does nothing but pique my anger.

I feel my hands start to shake, frustrated that someone so close to me could misunderstand the situation so deeply.

“Finn is part of the list! The list isn’t just a thing—it’s everything to me right now.” I put my head in my hands, embarrassed by how many times I’ve cried this week alone. “The list could be what fixes me. Couldn’t you just…not? Just this once.”

“?‘Just this once’?” Nora echoes. “What do you mean ‘just this once’?”

I lift my head from my hands. “I mean that—”

Nora cuts me off. “You think I’ll sleep with any guy I meet on the street?” I watch as the muscles in her jaw tense.

“What? No!” I protest. “I just mean that you could have let me try and talk to this guy.”

She crosses her arms and leans back on the bench, looking forward, toward the movie theater, instead of at me.

“You’ve always judged me, Phoebe.” It comes out in a whisper as she shakes her head. “Always.”

“What?” I ask, completely shocked by her admission. “I’ve never once judged you.”

“Yes, you have. You sit there with your perfectly organized life and your perfect job and your lists and your”—she pauses while looking for the right word—“innocence.” She takes a deep breath and looks back at me. “And you judge me for not having my shit together. Not everyone has their whole life mapped out and color coded.”

“Nora, I’m not judging you, I’m envious of you. I would kill to be able to do what you just did. And what you’ll probably be doing tomorrow night.” She rolls her eyes playfully, and I can feel my anger begin to subside. I reach out and grab her hand. “I’m serious, Nora. I wish I could be more like you.”

“You shouldn’t,” she says, finally turning toward me. “I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. I can’t find a job in the field that I want, and I’m no closer to having a boyfriend than you are, no matter how many dates I go on or how much sex I’m having.”

I think about that for a second. Could we really be in the same boat?

I’m not sure about that.

But even if we’re in different boats, I can tell Nora feels just as lost at sea as I do. Maybe it makes me a bad friend, but it brings me a little bit of comfort to think of her floating out there with me. It makes me feel less alone.

“And for what it’s worth”—she squeezes my hand—“I wish I was more like you, too.”

I put my head on her shoulder and let out a sigh.

I picture the two of us frantically trying to paddle to shore and smile despite myself.





9


Monday

(Twenty-Three Days Left)

I was too nervous thinking about Book Buddies to fall asleep last night. But it was the good, excited kind of nervous, the kind of nervous that had me pacing back and forth until Jonathan stomped into my room and, forcefully but lovingly, tucked me into my bed.

I stayed up all night reading the new book I bought from the romance bookstore in Culver City.

“Do you have any workplace romances to recommend?” I had asked the girl at the front desk, and she led me to a section that was only workplace romances.

Have I died and gone to heaven?

I couldn’t have organized the store better myself.

With a stack of fifteen books at my feet, I checked my bank statement. The fifty-dollar bottle of Seduction put me in the red, so I spent some time adding fourteen of the books to my to-read shelf on Goodreads, and then asked the girl at the front desk if I could get a discount on the last one, After Hours, because of the small rip in the corner. She sold it to me for eight dollars, which was a huge steal.

By the time my alarm went off in the morning, I had already finished the entire book and gotten fully dressed, opting for a pair of jeans and a classic black fitted tee that hugs my curves but doesn’t show any unnecessary skin. Since I got to work an hour ago, I’ve managed to sneak away to the bathroom twice to bathe myself in Seduction, determined to get my money’s worth.

Digging my fingernails into my palms in anticipation of Finn’s arrival, I watch as the kids move around the classroom with the newfound confidence that comes with a week of pre-K under their belts. Ellie is reading a book to Harry in the reading nook; Zoey and Aliyah are painting on a shared piece of paper draped over the easel; and Danny, Harry, and Charlie are building a castle in the block area. The kids have settled into our routine seamlessly, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s too good to be true. If something is bound to go wrong, I only hope it’s not when Finn and his class are here. Which should be in about thirty minutes.

Today’s plan is to have the fourth graders join in while the kids play in the classroom. Cheryl, Finn, and I will observe the combined classes to figure out who to pair together for future activities. There are only nine fourth graders to our eighteen preschoolers, so each fourth grader will partner with two of our kids moving forward.