Birdie Whitmore is my most unreliable athlete, yet the most talented. Taking the top rank in every sport she participates in, I have no choice but to take her to camp with me. Somehow, the girl can nail a brand-new routine with one eye on her screen and the other pinned on the football players. And her grades are perfect. She’s like some superhuman species that I can’t quite figure out.
“Can you at leastpretendyou’re listening?” I roll my eyes and continue, “You, Andie, and Claire will represent cheer, but you’ll be doing rhythm with color guard and pom due to the number of athletes and space. That leaves Daphne, Stella, and Jess representing softball. Everyone will be joining the baseball team for hitting practice and—”
“What?! They get to practice with the boys?” Chloe’s eyes fill with rage at this information. Good gravy, somebody save me.
I let out a sigh and try to wrap up before any of these girls find out Sarah Kim will be spending almost all her time with the football boys. “We leave at 6 a.m. tomorrow. Please don’t be late.”
They take that as their cue to leave and scurry out of the gym, not a single glance over their shoulder to say bye. I switch the lights off and head toward the exit, the setting sun peeking in through the small square windows at the top of the bleachers. The red letters of Glendale glisten on the floor as the light bounces off them.
I take a moment to lean against the wall that sits underneath theVolleyball State Championsflag and slide down until I hit the hardwood floor. The soles of my shoes squeak as I pull my knees into my chest.
The smell of citrus wood cleaner and rubber hit me as I take a deep breath. So many years of my life have revolved around this little gym. From the years I played, to becoming the assistant coach, to now being the athletic director for all of Glendale. The years flash across my mind in a blur, good days and bad, swirling around and bringing me to this moment. Right here. On this gym floor.Alone.
Ugh, that word. Alone.
I’ve been saying it way too much lately. Andfeelingit even more.
I’m not sure when these feelings truly hit, but I know that, lately, the reality that I am more alone than I have ever been in my entire life has been a major downer. So much so that I’ve led myself to believe the only way out of it is online dating. Online dating, for crying out loud! Not that it’s inherently bad to find your soulmate through an algorithm. Uncle Jerry met Sheila that way, and they’re happy as clams.
I guess I just pictured myself reaching for the last bag of gluten-free flour at the store, hand colliding with another. One larger and rougher but soft in all the right places. A gentle graze of a thumb across my knuckles. Eyes landing on the man of my dreams right there in the middle of Whole Foods.
It’s absurd. I’m aware. And I do grocery pick-up now, so that idea is the furthest from possible on the sheer fact that I rarely step inside the store anymore.
So here I am, putting myself out there for the internet to see. It’s terrifying, being judged solely on my pictures and a 200-word limitAbout Mesection—which is not near enough space to share who I am with someone. But I’m trying nonetheless, no matter how uncomfortable the swiping makes me.
The Nick thing was clearly a bust, but it was a start. Putting myself out there after Eric has been the biggest challenge of my life. And up until a few months ago, I was really enjoying my life and the people in it. The idea of trying to date wasn’t near as appealing.
“It’ll happen for you one day.”
Benny’s words are etched in my mind. I remember the crisp morning vividly. I was helping him pick out a ring, helping plan and organize the proposal, all the way down to which knee he would kneel on. The guy ended up proposing on a park bench a day early because he couldn’t wait any longer, but still. A full week's planning went into it, ending with us enjoying one last cup of coffee as two single people.
I never doubted Benny would find the love of his life one day. My cousin is one of the best men I know. He was destined for happiness. I just never expected to be the last one to find happiness. I’m literally the last one. In our entire family. The last person of typical dating age that doesn’t make people question if they collect doll heads or shark teeth.I’m looking at you, Aunt Edna.
His words were meant to be encouraging. Of course they were. I know this. But my brain decided to spiral into a toxic thought pool and practically drown in pitifullonely methoughts.
I hate feeling lonely.
I’ve done everything in my power to not feel lonely, ever since I was little. When my parents were so consumed in their own lives that they never noticed me, I ran down the road to Lola’s. When the girls on the team would try and ignore me, I’d go hang out with Benny and the rest of the track boys. When I took the job at Glendale, I refused to feel alone among my peers and forced them to be my friends. I tend to be suffocating in relationships. I’m highly aware. But none of them seem to mind. Even Malcolm, who hates everyone and everything, has never once made me feel alone.
But for the last two years, I have been alone. Truly alone.
“There’s nothing wrong with being by yourself,”Lola would tell me constantly.
And that’s what I’ve been since Eric left.
Going from seeing your boyfriend every single day, even working with him, to living on your own with your dog was jarring. It took me months to be okay with sleeping by myself. Some nights, Malcolm or Benny would sleep on my couch. Just knowing someone was there was all I needed.
Until one day, I didn’t. I was finally okay with being by myself. Independent. A free spirit with no constraints to another person.
The bombshell was liberating. This revelation might have come after one too many margaritas, but it was a revelation all the same. I was going to be alone, and I was going to be okay with it. To hell with men.
A ding from my phone brings me out of the memory.
You’ve Matched!in bright-gold letters pops up on my phone. The dating app I signed up for has informed me numerous times today that I’ve “matched” with someone. This should be exciting,but the dread of actually opening up the app and seeing what awaits me has had me sliding the notification closed and not going any further.
I take a deep breath, blowing my ringlet curls out of my face, before hopping up onto my feet. I take one last glance at the gym, letting the nostalgia fill me with a sense of calm. I truly love this little place. It’s my home. For a moment, I feel like, as long as I have this place, I’m not alone. Who needs aninternet boyfriendanyway?
But can the gym hug you and kiss you and buy you ice cream when you’re sad?My inner rational thoughts sound eerily like Lola. I picture her eyeing me from the stands across the floor.
