I run my hands through my dark long strands and finger my roots to give my hair a bit of a lift.
As I round the corner to the front of the market where his canopy was, it’s still there, shading a table and only a few small boxes sit on top. One labeled free on the outside, an older couple steps behind the table, each grabbing the two remaining cardboard boxes as they hold a conversation placing them in the bed of a truck.
I don’t see him anywhere and I realize I don’t even know what his name is to ask if he’s still around.
A wave of sadness hits me as I turn around and head toward my car. I’m scolding myself for not going back earlier. The other part of myself is happy that I don’t have the option because that man is a heartbreak waiting to happen.
CHAPTER 2
TWO’S COMPANY, THREE’S A CROWD… OR IS IT?
ABBY
“Ican’t make it today.” Cami’s words echo through the speaker of my phone as I finish putting on the last of my mascara.
“What do you mean you can’t make it today?” I ask, pausing to glare at her through the blank screen, even though she can’t see me.
Cami often joins me on my community drop off days to help record everything, so the videos aren’t just selfies of me and whoever I am interviewing. I always like to take time and give the donee time to talk about their services or what they do. Obviously, in this case with a fire station, it’s self explanatory. But I still like them to share their stories and give them time to give people insight into their lives.
“I’m sorry, my sister has an emergency and I need to take my niece to her recital today,” Cami explains with an unusually somber tone and now I feel bad I was so judgy.
“Oh no, hopefully everything is okay?” I pause, to give her a chance to share any details if she wants to, but she doesn’t. “Okay, well I don’t want to keep you from that and I’ve gotto finish getting ready but call me later if you need help or anything, okay?”
“Definitely,” she replies like she wants to say more, but doesn’t.
“Okay, are you still coming over later for our traditional Christmas Eve movie night binge?” I ask, hopeful.
“I’m going to try, as long as everything is okay with my sister and I don’t need to watch my niece.”
“Sounds good. I hope your sister is okay, and I mean it, I can help with anything,” I offer again, because I’d rather go to the recital, or help run errands for Cami, than be alone on Christmas Eve.
“Sounds good, have fun and let me know how it goes,” she says, before hanging up and my phone beeps three times to signal the disconnect.
She’s been acting a bit strange since everything blew up between me, Sam, and Sienna. She and I became really close a few years ago, then she introduced me to Sienna. I know she’s feeling torn between maintaining both friendships because Sienna’s been pressuring Cami to stop talking to me completely.
Which is so stupid. Sienna broke the cardinal girlfriend rule. You don’t sleep with your friend's boyfriend. Yet, I’m the one being punished and outed like I did something wrong.
I glance down at my home screen that appears now that the call is over. It’s a simple picture of a breathtaking sunset that I took from the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. A few rides from the pier are silhouetted, just showing their outlines while the pink and orange sky glows in the background.
My screensaver used to be one of Sam and I but I picked this one as a replacement after I caught him with Sienna. Now I realize this picture was also taken when I was with Sam and it pisses me off because I love the photo so much. I don’t want to change it.
I haven’t seen him since the Farmers Market a couple weeks ago. He’s been texting me, but I’ve just been ignoring him. His absence has been hard, and I’ve realized, it’s not because I miss him, it’s because I feel so alone again.
When we first met, he made me feel so needed and desired. But now that I look back on it, the constant collaboration posts and bringing me into his newly established business was all he wanted me for. My follower count. I should have recognized his narcissistic vain personality from a mile away, but love—or what you think is love—makes you do crazy things, I suppose.
Admittedly, I’ve been thinking about the mysterious, kissing god from the Farmers Market more than Sam.
But, I stop myself before I go down that rabbit hole again. He’s far too easy to daydream about and a productivity killer.
After cleaning my make-up products off my bathroom counter, I spritz my hair with some texturizing spray. Giving myself a once over in the standing mirror that sits in the corner of my room, I appraise the outfit I chose. Black leggings and a burgundy sweater with a black lace cami underneath. The sweater hangs off one shoulder and the color compliments my tan knee high boots perfectly. It’s casual and fun, but still hides some of the extra padding in my hips.
I’ve never been a‘skinny’girl and I’ve come to the conclusion I never will be. I’ve had hips and boobs since I hit puberty in the seventh grade and have dealt with both guys and girls making comments about both since then. Girls thinking I stuffed my bra, guys thinking it’s okay to make comments about a woman’s body. Incessant comments about how I should dress or backhanded compliments like,“you’re not fat, you’re curvy” or “you carry your weight well.”
I’m over it.
I dress appropriately for my body type and over the years I’ve finally grown to accept it for what it is. My body is my greatest instrument and I need to be kinder to it with my words.
Ironically, the more I love it, the less other people tend to pay negative attention to it.
