I don’t know that I’d ever felt that lonely in my entire life.
I was sure my online friends would be supportive if I messaged them, but everything felt like too much drama to spill to friends lucky enough to be thousands of miles away.
And it exhausted me just thinking about it, so texting about it would be even worse.
I was considering quitting my job, because even that wasn’t the same anymore. I’d transferred to Equipment Check-Out the morning after Applebee’s, because I was too much of a coward to face Nekesa and I didn’t want to ever see Theo or Charlie again, so now I just spent mind-numbingly boring hours on end handing out things like roller skates and snowboards to kids who didn’t look like they washed their hands.
The only good thing was that my dad had started reaching out more. My mother must’ve really given him an earful, because he was back to texting me all the time.
Dad: Guess where I ate last night?
Me: McKennas?
Dad: Lucky guess. I had the Bailey special, btw.
His words made me think cow tongue on toast, but I forced myself to concentrate on my father’s reminiscing instead of Charlie’s nonsense. Spaghetti with a side of bologna?
It was what I always ordered at McKennas when I was five years old, and to this day, my dad ordered it every time he visited the restaurant.
It was weird. I was starting to feel less homesick when he talked about my former city, which I supposed was some sort of progress. It was more like seeing a curling old photograph, a soft reminder of another time in my life. I could smile and picture it, but I didn’t feel that desperate desire to fly back immediately and resume my previous life anymore.
That probably meant I was finally accepting that that part of my life was over.
Closure and all that.
Charlie texted me every day, and every day I ignored him.
He’d started with apologies. He peppered me with a slew of apologetic texts and explanations. When I didn’t respond, he switched to sharing funny memes, things we would’ve laughed about together before everything went wrong.
Now he’d moved on to random I miss you texts, which always made me want to cry. He wasn’t a romantic guy, so when he texted things like Look what I found on my phone today—I miss you and included a screenshot of me and his cat—and him—when we’d FaceTimed, it felt like more than a picture.
It felt like he’d felt it too, the magic, and that hurt so much that I started deleting his messages without even reading them first.
Speaking of the cat, my mother delivered Puffball to Charlie’s house like we were people divorcing and exchanging custody of our ward. Puffball was a fucking custody kid, for the love of God, and that full-circle unhappy ending was too depressing for words.
That Thursday night, when I was dying of boredom with an hour left in my shift, I heard someone approaching the Interstellar Equipment Station—aka my little hut.
Please don’t ask for anything.
All I wanted was to mindlessly scroll on my phone and ignore the world.
“Hey.”
I sighed and looked up, only to find Nekesa waiting.
My stomach dropped and my heart started racing; God, I was nervous to see her.
I got off my stool and went to the window, not knowing what to say or how to look at her. Smiling felt wrong, but so did not smiling. So I just said, “Hey.”
Her eyes went up to my hair. “A bun? Really?”
I nodded in agreement with what I knew she was thinking. She had strong opinions on the bun. “Yes, I’ve given up.”
“Listen, I need to check out a boogie board for a guest who’s coming in late. Can I get it charged to room 769?” she asked, ignoring my bun rebuttal entirely. “Please.”
“Sure.” I tabbed through the necessary fields on the computer until I got to the right screen. My face was on fire and my hands were shaking, and I wasn’t sure if it was from guilt or fear that we’d never be friends again.
I could tell by the expression on her face that she was going to take the board and go, and I knew I needed to say something.
It was now or never.
But what?
What could I possibly say to make her forgive me?
“I’m so sorry.” I glanced up from the computer screen and said the first thing I could think of. “I’m a jerk and the worst and totally deserving of your scorn, but I am begging you to forgive me.”
Her eyebrows went down.
“I know, I know, I know,” I said quickly, talking as fast as I could, trying to think of more ways to get through to her while she was standing in front of me. “Even my apology is annoying, right? But I just want you to know that I never hoped or thought you’d cheat on Aaron—”
“Bailey—”
“And I was betting on you, not that that made it any better—”
“Can you shut up?” she asked, her eyebrows going even lower. “This groveling is pathetic.”
My words froze in my mouth, because I couldn’t believe she’d told me to shut up.
But then her mouth turned into a little half smile that made me want to cry happy tears. Actually my eyes did fill with tears, because I missed her so much. She said, “What you did was super assy. Like, super assy.”
I nodded and sniffled. “I know.”
“But Charlie told me—after he and Theo fought, by the way—that you took the bet to show him how wrong he was. And he told me you felt shitty about it the whole time.”
“I totally did,” I agreed, adding, “Not that that excuses it.”
God, what had I been thinking? It was surreal to me, that I’d ever gone along with it.
Freaking Charlie.
“Are you okay?” I asked, realizing that she’d been coping with her own loneliness. “About Aaron, I mean.”
She puckered her lips and lifted her shoulder. “I guess, yeah, but I miss him.”
I swallowed and nodded.
“A lot,” she added, looking so sad that I wanted to hug her, even though I knew she wouldn’t let me.
“Have you guys talked at all?” I asked, wishing I could fix it for her.
She shook her head. “I’m too scared to call him.”
Yeah, I definitely understand that. “You should, though.”
She just sighed, like she had no idea what to do, then said, “So can I catch a ride home with you after work? My battery’s dead, and I don’t want to wait for my dad to pick me up.”
“Are you kidding?” I said, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Of course you can!”
“Settle your ass down.” She laughed.
“Sorry.” Relief swept over me like a wave.
The rest of my shift was better, now that I knew things might be okay with us. And when I gave her a ride home at the end of the night and she just launched into a story right away, as if nothing had happened with us, I was ecstatic. It wasn’t until we got closer to her house that she turned toward me in the passenger seat and said, “So have you talked to Charlie at all?”
Just hearing his name made my chest ache, and I shook my head and said, “He texts me, but I haven’t responded. I’m just going to ignore him until he disappears.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” she asked, and I was kind of surprised. After everything that’d happened, I would’ve thought she’d want him out of our lives forever.