“Calculator Cal didn’t do this out of jealousy,” she said. “He was just doing what he was told.”
She notably didn’t correct my two other statements.
I hesitated. Should I tell Macey about my suspicions that Victoria was one of the ones leaving rude comments? TheFishly541account had left more comments recently, and the tone of the comments matched the tone of Victoria’s articles.
But also, Macey had already been hurt by so many other anonymous messages online, I didn’t want to twist the knife.
“Macey, you should know?—”
Just then a server dropped another plate on the table between us. Macey’s eyes brightened. “Unagi! My favorite.”
One thing I learned from watchingFriendsreruns was that unagi was a state of total awareness. I shivered watching Macey shove one into her mouth. Maybe I never finished that episode.
After finishing the plate in record timing, Macey turned to me. “I thought that would make me feel better, but I was wrong.”
Suddenly, it became too much. The constant reminders about what kinds of comments waited for us on Instagram. The surface-level small talk around the room. The coworker who had unknowingly taken an opportunity away from Macey.
Too. Much.
I shoved my chair back and stood, offering a hand to Macey. “Let’s get out of here.”
She stared back at me. “Don’t you have to post like, five photos tonight?”
I didn’t give a shit about any of that, but for the sake of my manager Ezra’s anxiety, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a few pictures. They looked like they were taken by a five-year-old, but oh well.
“Done,” I said. “Now let’s leave before they bring out more raw fish.”
We meandered slowly back to my apartment.
All things considered, Macey was reacting well. It was good to know she handled bad news and others’ mistreatments better than I did. I just had to press on the issue one more time.
“Why are you so afraid of quittingRoamer’s Digest?” I asked, peering down at her. “For real?”
“For real?” She shot me a small smile. “I’ve always done what I thought was the right move. I wanted things with stability that helped me achieve my goals. Quitting a job to focus on a blog I just started sounds terrifying.” She nearly tripped over the sidewalk. “Also, what would my parents think? I’d be crushing my mom’s dream.”
“Right.” I sighed, remembering what she had told me about her mother. That she had always dreamed of working for a magazine but never had the opportunity. Seemed like she was living vicariously through Macey. “What does your dad think?”
Macey laughed. “Matthew Monroe has always been a free spirit. He always told me to listen to my heart. He’d probably find a way to justify any decision of mine.
“They do want me to be happy. But Dad has also said that being happy requires some level of comfort. They were both teenagers when I was born, so they were always making things up as they went. I love them, and I know they love me, but I can’t help but think I ruined their dreams.”
“Ruined?” I slowed my pace, turning to face her. “Scribbles, you’re not capable of ruining someone’s dreams. You are the dream.”
She let out a soft scoff, kicking a loose pebble along the sidewalk. “But they wanted to travel the world,” she said, exasperated. “Mom wanted to work for a magazine. I’m not sure what Dad wanted to do, but I doubt it was to spend nights changing diapers while his friends went to bars.”
I reached out, brushing the back of my hand against hers as we walked. “That just means that when they got you, they gotnew dreams. Better ones, too. It’s not your fault.” She didn’t look convinced, her brows still furrowed in thought, so I added, “Next time you see them, ask them about their dreams. I think the answer might surprise you.”
She didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead, her lips pressed together like she was tucking the thought away for later.
The city stretched around us, a blend of quiet and movement. We were nearly at my apartment now, just a block away. I could already see the warm glow from the lobby lights spilling onto the sidewalk, feel the familiar weight of my keys in my pocket. But for some reason, I wasn’t in a rush to get inside.
“Have you put any more thought into applying to the University of Illinois Chicago?” she asked.
“I had a meeting with the professor the other day.” I missed the metro and had to sprint a few blocks to be there on time, but I made it. “She thinks I have a good chance of getting in as a transfer student on rolling admission for the fall semester.”
“Oh my God!” Macey came to a sudden stop, and since we were still holding hands, so did I. “Noah! That’s amazing.”
Her eyes were wide with excitement, her fingers tightening around mine. The rush of her reaction hit me harder than I expected, like warmth spreading through my chest. I wasn’t used to people celebrating my wins like this—like they mattered.
