My friend Gio moved in during the first month because I quickly realized I struggled with being truly alone. We met at work, started gaming together after hours, and somewhere along the way, he became my best—and only—friend. I stopped letting myself get too close to people because they quickly become someone I couldn’t imagine living without…and I’ve had to live that reality one too many times.
I didn’t believe in love at first sight, but I knew I wanted to see Serenity again, maybe get her number, and ask her out. I guess that’ll be a new topic for Darla next week, even though I’d have to be vague, knowing she couldn’t discuss other patients with me. How much could the dating scene really have changed? My gut twisted the familiar way it always did whenever I thought about getting close to anyone.
“Earth to Grant,” Gio’s voice broke through outside the truck window. He must have pulled in right behind me since I left work early for therapy.
I snapped out of my daydream. “Sorry, I’m getting out.” I stepped out of my truck and joined Gio in the garage.
We walked through the garage toward the house. “You were sitting there in a daze with a cheesy grin on your face. Care to share with the group?” he teased as we approached the kitchen island, tossing our keys and wallets into the basket on top.
“I met someone who was just…wow. I can’t even put it into words.”
He bumped my shoulder in encouragement. “Did you get her number? Where’d you meet?”
“I met her in the waiting room of my therapist’s office. I didn’t have time to get her number, but maybe I’ll get a chance next week.”
He snorted. “Wait…you met her in therapy? Like she was a fellow patient?”
I looked away. “Yeah.”
“Don’t you go to therapy for your relationship issues with women? The first woman you even mention—in I don’t know how long—and she’s in therapy? What if she’s crazy or something?” He grabbed two sodas from the fridge and handed one to me.
I glared at him, his accusation seriously pissing me off. I’d only given him half-truths about why I was in therapy—though I think everyone can benefit from it, not just people with traumatic pasts. “I’ve been in therapy for eight years. Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked, feeling my jaw tighten as I awaited his response.
“Dude, that’s not what I meant. I’m a therapy guy, too. I only meant, you never know with people.”
I didn’t like how he implied that something had to be wrong with her just because she went to therapy. Maybe she was just someone who believed in it. But I decided to let his comment go, arguing wasn’t going to make me feel any better. “I don’t think she’s crazy. She looked…sad.”
Gio smirked. “Maybe she’s going through a breakup.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. What were the chances she was even single?
“I wasn’t saying I’m going to instantly try to date her—or fuck her—I just thought she was beautiful.” Evenbeautifulseemed too insignificant a word—more like drop-dead gorgeous.
“No need to sound hostile, I’m only fucking with you,” he replied, lightly punching my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, man. She literally scrambled my brain in less than two minutes,” I said, laughing at how ridiculous I sounded.
“Was it love-at-first-sight type shit?” he taunted.
“I don’t even know. I can’t get her out of my head.” I had no way of seeing her again unless her appointment is scheduled after mine again… What if it’s not? Or what if she and Darla weren’t a good match? “Never mind, my thoughts are all over the place. I’m going to go take a nap.”
I grabbed my soda and walked away without saying another word. Therapy today had been dark and heavy, but seeing Serenity made me feel like the version of myself I knew before grief and tragedy. I couldn’t begin to understand the magnetic pull I had toward her. I think she felt it, too…the look on her face confirmed it. I wanted to see her again.
THREE
AGE 11
Ishould have been excited about starting middle school, but it was just another move for me, a new set of teachers and students who don’t know me and probably never would. I stayed away from the kids at my last school because I knew we would be moving. We were always moving.
I lived with my mom…sort of. Isabella Serrano was a consultant at a global management company, where half her job involved traveling across the nation, so she was never home. I spent the last year moving constantly as she revolved through relationships, finding a new location for a fresh start after each breakup.
My mom made sure I had everything I needed, but never managed to be around. Most of my time has been spent alone since moving back in with her. I stayed mostly with my great-aunt Benita until my tenth birthday, when my mom decided I was grown up enough not to need the extra help. Now here I was,navigating my first day at a new middle school alone because she was on yet another business trip.
I walked to the new bus stop, wondering if she even knew it was the first day and would ask me how it went after school. I was still thinking about it as I climbed onto the bus, looking nervously for an empty seat. The only seat left was next to a boy who had long brown hair. He was cute. “Can I sit here?” I looked down shyly.
“Since it’s the last seat on the bus, I would definitely suggest it.”
His laugh put me at ease. “Is there a reason this is the last seat on the bus? You aren’t the school bully, are you?” I felt comfortable enough to joke around with this new boy I had just met, but I stopped caring about being nervous around new people since it was my new norm.
