“Well,” Taylor said with a breathy laugh. “I guess we know what we’ll see on TikTok tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Despite the whirl of the professional-grade blender, the light rock streaming from the speakers, and the cacophony of voices buzzing throughout the bookstore, Taylor slurped her iced coffee as silently as possible as she perused the glossy magazine covers. Her visits to the library as a shy sixth grader on base at Hohenfels Middle School had conditioned her to be quiet when surrounded by books.
She picked up a copy ofFitnessmagazine and brought it to a nearby table in the bookstore’s café. But as she flipped past the full-page ads for erectile dysfunction and toe fungus medications, her thoughts meandered back to Jamar’s kiss. Afakekiss, she reminded herself. Although, if that was fake, Taylor was ready to sell her vintage Snow White cookie jar for the chance to experience the real thing.
Andthat’sthe kind of thinking that will get your ass in trouble.
Determined not to let her mind tumble headfirst into the gutter, she retuned her attention to the magazine. As she thumbed through the pages, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the headline of one of the articles:GET THE PERFECT BOOTY WITH THIS BOOT CAMP WORKOUT. Taylor recognized the flash of resentment that rushed through her for what it was: jealousy.
Her mood had a tendency to turn salty whenever she came across a piece written in that fun, hip vein. She would have been writing these features if she’d landed that job withModish and Melanated, one of the hottest lifestyle sites for young black women on the web.
She pressed her hand to her stomach, warding off the sickening feeling that attacked her whenever she thought back on that day a few weeks ago.
At first, Taylor thought the email from Ashanti West,Modish and Melanated’s editor at large, regarding an opening for a health and wellness contributor was the universe’s idea of a cruel joke. She’d just lost the homeschooling job the week before and—because life could be arealbastard at times—had overdrawn her bank account that very morning.
Ms. West had reached out after running across the Taylor’d Conditioning Instagram account. But when Taylor forwarded her résumé, the editor at large had replied that readers came toModish and Melanatedwith the expectation of receiving vetted expertise and that she could not in good conscience hire someone for the position who didn’t hold a degree in a field of study relevant to fitness and wellness.
That’s when Taylor knew that if she really wanted to make a career out of her love of fitness, she would have to do whatever it took to make it happen, even if it meant facing her biggest fear.
She just had to find the courage to do it.
That’s why you’re here. Get off your ass and get that practice manual!
Taylor slapped the magazine closed and took it back to the rack. But instead of going over to the study aids section, she moved to the comics, hoping there were still copies of her favorite graphic novel series.
She used to refer to her comics as her guilty pleasure, but fuck that shit. Anything that brought her pleasure these days was welcomed and she refused to feel guilty about it.
Of course, the entire Nisekoi: False Love series was sold out, because Austin comic geeks knew what was up. She picked out a couple of other contemporary romance manga that looked promising, then tossed her empty coffee cup into the trash and took a deep breath.
It was time for her to embrace the grown-up version of herself and face her demons. She straightened her spine and marched over to the aisle markedSTUDY AIDS AND TEST PREP, approaching the ACT prep guide as if it were a snake.
“Stop being ridiculous,” she chided herself.
But she still didn’t reach for the thick book. Instead, she retreated until her shoulders met the opposite shelf.
Closing her eyes, she dropped her head back and blew out a deep, weary breath. She needed a moment to work through the painful memories that enveloped her whenever she was reminded about what happened the last time she’d made a failed attempt at being a student. The hurt and anger, the paralyzing sense of worthlessness; it was demoralizing.
Taylor had been so sure that she’d finally gathered the courage to face the college entrance exam when she’d sat down to take it last spring. She’d spent weeks studying—well, conducting her own brand of studying, which admittedly, left a lot to be desired. Still, she’d been so sure of herself.
The morning of the test, she’d spent an hour meditating to the calming hum of Tibetan singing bowls from one of the apps on her phone. When she slid into the chair in the lecture hall a few hours later, she’d felt calmer and more confident than she ever had in a classroom. But, per her standard operating procedure when it came to anything to do with school, the weeks of preparation and positive self-talk dissipated the moment the test administrator told them to break the seal on their testing booklet.
The irrational fear she’d always faced in school had instantly sprung to life, bringing with it the debilitating anxiety that tightened her chest and made her insides feel as if she was both ice cold and fiery hot. She’d left the testing center after the first bathroom break and had ignored the follow-up emails regarding the test.
Why would she want to put herself through that again? The gig she had going with Jamar was bound to lead to the success that had eluded her in the past. It was all but guaranteed.
You thought the same thing about going viral.
She sucked in another deep breath to quell the turmoil churning in her head. Just the thought of going back to school, of sitting in a classroom and suffering through a test while some teacher breathed down her neck, made her start to hyperventilate. But if there was one thing this past year had taught her, it was that her lack of a degree had become a nearly insurmountable brick wall between her and her goals.
She took a step forward, running her hand along the ACT prep manual’s glossy spine before lifting it from the shelf. She’d allowed Samiah and London to think that she’d just come up with the idea to go back to school, but it had been swirling in her head for well over a year. She’d researched the nutrition and kinesiology programs at area universities and diligently read over the course requirements to figure out how many credit hours she could carry while still working full-time. And then she’d signed up to take the college entrance exam.
That damn test. It persisted as the one barrier that stood in her way.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. There was another obstacle that she’d done her level best to ignore over the years.
Despite her reluctance to even glance that way, Taylor’s gaze traveled to the section just a couple of yards to her right, where the purple and green cover taunted her. She knew exactly where the book on common learning disorders stood on the shelf, between the one on sensory processing disorders and the one on curriculum planning for the exceptionally gifted. She’d flipped through its pages on a previous trip to this bookstore, studying the diagrams about kinesthetic learning styles and skimming the chapters on how learning disorders develop and tools for helping those who have them.
