The night seemed to fly by, with drinks flowing and laughs being had all around. Marcus turned out to be an absolute riot and a decent singer to boot. He belted out “Since You’ve Been Gone” in one of the best renditions Cierra had ever heard, and even some of the other bar-goers clapped once the song was over. But eventually, as Cierra became aware of her aching feet, she sensed it was time to go home. Everyone else had work the next day, so around ten thirty, they all called it a night. Mia and Marcus exchanged numbers, and Cierra and Julian gave each other a hug.
“Thanks for the company,” Cierra said with a modest smile.
“Not at all, I should thank you. It gets better, I promise.” Something about the way he said those words let her know herelated in a deeper way. And it felt good to hear those words, even though she didn’t yet believe them herself.
They looked at each other for a few moments, not quite sure what to do next. If the timing were different, maybe she’d ask for his Instagram or would have dropped more hints. He was obviously into her, and he was the type of guy she’d be into, but even though the distraction was great for tonight, realistically she had no desire for romance of any kind. And Julian’s hesitancy about being more forth-right showed he understood that, too. His eyes grazed over Cierra with a restrained longing, but then an air came over him, extinguishing whatever seemed to be on his mind.God, those are nice eyes, Cierra thought.
“Julian! We’ve gotta go, like,nowif we want to catch the J train,” Marcus called.
Julian gave one more look toward Cierra. “You know what,” he said, digging into his pocket, pulling out a matchbook from the bar with his number scribbled across the top. “Listen, I was debating saying anything because of your situation, but maybe, in a few months or whenever you feel like putting yourself back out there . . . would you want this?”
“Shuddup. That’s sooo cute, Cee,” Mia interjected with her slurred voice, making both Cierra and Julian chuckle awkwardly.
But Cierra tuned back to Julian, looking into his eyes. “I’d really like that.”
“Alright,” he said with a genuine smile, “cool. Well, I’ll see you then.” With that, Julian turned around and caught up with Marcus, who was already beginning to turn around the block, out of view.
“So, you and Julian seemed to have a good night, huh?” Mia said a little drunkenly, while pulling out a cigarette and waggling her eyebrows erratically like a broken baby doll. Cierra looked pointedly at the cigarette. “Don’t worry, our Uber won’t be herefor like . . . three minutes,” Mia said. “So, did you get his number?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t like that. I mean, I’ll use it. Sometime. Probably. In the distant future.” Mia scrunched her eyes in confusion, and Cierra let out a sigh. “The only reason we were talking all night was so that you and Marcus could hang out. I was simply along for the ride. Oh, and I just got out of a six-year relationship, remember?”
“Whatever you say. Admit it, you had fun.”
Cierra grinned at her friend. “Yes, I had fun.”
“And you like him,” Mia said in a drawn-out voice.
“I barely know him, Mia. But he was a perfect distraction, and I’m glad you got me out of the house.” Cierra took a drag from Mia’s cigarette and immediately launched into a coughing fit. Mia started laughing hysterically.
“See! I told you never to start up again! Now look at you . . .” Mia clapped her friend on the back and stomped out the half-smoked cigarette as their Uber pulled up.
In the back of the car, Cierra smelled sweat and beer in her hair, which now lay freely over her shoulders. It had been nice to have a carefree night out. She squeezed her sleepy, drunk friend’s hand, and Mia smiled lazily with her eyes closed in response. Cierra looked out the window at the Brooklyn skyline; taking in the city at night was as mesmerizing now as when she’d first arrived. Tonight had reminded her that she was among the living, that she could still surprise herself, and that whatever she did next, she wanted more ofthisfeeling.
CHAPTER THREE
IT WAS APPROACHING two months since the tiki bar adventure. The icy winter air had transitioned into a crisp spring breeze, and Cierra was sipping on her third iced coffee of the day, making her way through Grand Central Station. Nights out with Mia had lifted her mood somewhat, but she still struggled day to day, with little to no appetite and an overwhelming desire to be constantly in bed. Occasionally she thought about Julian, but she was still too raw to reach out. Ranting on FaceTime calls to Mia, job searching, and avoiding her bank statements consumed most of her energy.
Although the term “looking for jobs” was generous, as the bulk of her research had quickly transitioned into watching YouTube videos until one in the morning, with titles likeYour Passion: RevealedorHow to become unrecognizable in sixty days!
The week Harry left, she had bawled on the phone for hours to her mom. And as a result, her mom kept urging her to come home to Connecticut for a weekend.
Not the Stepford-wife Connecticut, where hedge-fund managers lived, but a working-class suburb of Hartford. Cierra’s parents had worked hard to make sure both of their daughters got a college education. They’d shared thirty-five years of marriage and had been up against a lot more than Cierra or hersister would ever face. A black wife and white husband had been a rare sight in 1990s suburbia.
After their dad passed away when Cierra was in college, her older sister, Lisa, had stepped up to take care of their aging mother, moving back home with her wife, Jess, to be closer. These factors made Cierra’s trip home all the more humiliating for her — coming home alone felt like she was letting everyone down. If her parents had figured it out, despite financial and societal pressures Cierra never had, what did that say about her? She grimaced at the thought of seeing Lisa. Another call Cierra had left unanswered.
After jumping on her train and taking a thick hoodie out of her bag, she placed it between her head and the window to rest. This breakup had left her feeling completely deflated. Where there once was security, self-confidence, and a sense of belonging, there was now just a vast emptiness.
She hadn’t told her friends or family, barring Mia, about the job situation yet. She and Harry had already paid until the end of their lease. Well, actually, Harry had offered to pay the rest of the rent, and Cierra was in no financial position to refuse. Which felt extra humiliating on top of his already leaving.
And she hated to admit it, but Harry was right. Up and quitting so soon without a backup hadn’t been the best move, and now she was feeling the pressure to find a new job. There were other restaurants she knew would hire her in a moment, but the nicer ones weren’t hiring for a senior chef position. And so, she was essentially looking at jobs for the same position she had been in, but at less reputable establishments and with lower pay. Meanwhile, her student debt payments were piling up, and Lisa, who had co-signed, had rightfully called and left a message just a week prior, asking to talk about it.
Her relationship with Harry had afforded her a lifestyle that she couldn’t keep up on her own. He had paid a larger share ofthe rent, and he was the one who took care of social outings and vacations. And while this truth existed in the background of her mind, Cierra had never considered that it was something that would ever change. The thought of moving in with a roommate at thirty didn’t seem like a viable option, but neither was paying the price of a one-bedroom within a forty-five-minute radius of downtown Manhattan. Without divine intervention, Cierra had no clue how she was going to manage, and her lease was up within the week.
The sides of her head felt pressed together again, like her temples were trying to squeeze out her thoughts. When Cierra looked in her small purse for some painkillers, she remembered she’d left them in her weekend bag, but shedidfind her go-to emotional support snack — a fresh bag of Skittles. Grinning, she took the waxy red packet out for later, forcing herself to wait until taking her actual medicine before popping a sweet little bite into her mouth.
She placed her watered-down iced coffee to the side and wriggled out of the tight train seat to retrieve her bag from overhead. Lost in her own world of self-inflicted doom, she had almost forgotten there were other people on the train and took a minute to survey the various train-goers in their activities. A group of college girls were laughing at videos and sharing them with each other. There was a hot finance dad on his laptop, probably working on the commute. An older woman was watching her iPad and fiddling with a bag of pretzels. Cierra wondered what people thought of when they saw her — or if they even noticed. Could anyone tell her life had imploded? Or did they just see a napping woman?
After grabbing her medicine, she washed it down with the watery coffee and zoned out, listening to music for the rest of the two-hour train ride.
