Sara frowns. “You seem more tired than usual.”
Exhaustion weighs heavy on my body but more so on my brain. Stifled emotions rise up into my throat, and I don’t even know why.
Or maybe I do, but I’m confused by the effect it’s having on me.
“Is everything okay?” She untangles herself from her girlfriend and leans forward, eyeing me with concern.
“Someone I used to know came into work tonight,” I mumble. A gross understatement.
Marley’s face pinches. “Ah, so not someone you would’ve liked to remember?”
I don’t know how to answer her question. Some of my only positive childhood memories are of Reid and that year we lived in the same foster house. It’s not even that I look back at them with rose-colored glasses, shining them up more than they deserve. It truly was the only year when I was growing up that I felt like I had someone watching out for me.
But I’m not that kid anymore, and neither is Reid. I don’t know this version of him, and after tonight I’m not sure if I really want to.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. Sara opens her mouth but shuts it with a look from Marley.
“You know we’re here for you when you’re ready,” Marley says. Sara nods her agreement.
I give them a half-hearted smile, grateful for their support and the fact that they don’t try to pry when they know I’m not ready.
“I’m gonna head to bed,” I tell them, rising to my feet and stretching my arms above my head. “And tomorrow night, you guys better wait for me.” I point a finger at each of them as they repress guilty smiles.
“Night,” Sara says, and Marley adds, “Don’t forget we have Cecily’s bridal party on Friday. Do you want to go in on a gift with us?”
Shit. I had forgotten about one of our friend’s showers. “Sure, thanks. Just let me know how much I owe you.”
“We should start an upcharge for third wheel privileges,” Sara quips.
I flip her off as laughter follows me down the hallway to my room.
When I get there, Macaroni is curled up on the foot of my bed under the streetlight streaming in through thewindow. He peeks open one eye, then curls a paw over his face with a groan.
Despite my evening, it makes me smile, and I scratch his ear before plugging my phone in to charge on the nightstand and pull back the covers. The stiff material is oddly comforting. Once, I splurged on nicer sheets after I got one of my first paychecks from On Tap. They were a soft beige and claimed they were made from bamboo. The salesman had told me I’d never want to buy another brand of sheets ever again.
But I couldn’t sleep on them. They were too soft, too slippery, just wrong. Was it fucked up of me that I craved the scratchy, cheap ones that I grew up on?
Maybe a little bit, but I returned them the next day and have kept these old teal ones instead.
I wonder if Reid ever got used to the luxury items we weren’t afforded. I’m sure he had no problem adjusting to the money he brought in. Upgrading his instruments, clothes, houses, and who knows what else.
He did all of that while I had to fend for myself back with our foster parents.
Resentment bubbles in my chest and I choke it back down. I don’t want to feel that way toward him. I don’t want to feelanysort of way toward him. Maybe I should’ve taken a page out of his book and forgot about him.
It’s true that I always wanted to live by the beach. I wanted to get as far away from Pittsburgh as possible and craved the calmness of the waves crashing on the shore and the sand beneath my feet.
But there was always that possibility that one day I could potentially see him again. That I’d see him and he’d see me and he’d remember. That he’d say he was sorry for leaving me behind.
It was foolish of me to hope. I should’ve learned that lesson a long time ago.
I should’ve let him believe I was a starstruck groupie and left it at that.
5
Reid
It’s not the same beating the shit out of this new boxing bag as it is with the worn, abused ones at the gym. But I couldn’t trust myself to go there today. Or the past three days since I saw her. Not when I know she’s only down the street from it.
