I ignored her and continued my rant. “Only someone mentally insane would want to poke people with needles in the mouth, drill their teeth with just local anesthesia, and then do it day in and day out.”
“I don’t think that makes someone mentally insane. He was trying to help you, need I remind you? He took you to his clinic to make sure your tooth was alright.”
The soreness in my mouth still lingered, and the mention of the incident made it start throbbing again. I gently touched my swollen lip and mouth with my fingertips.
“In my book, it does.” I poured the noodles into the hot water. “But, Em, I don’t know what to do because I owe this guy.”
“You owe him?”
“The dental visit, the yard work. What if he comes to collect payment?”
“He won’t. He was doing those things because he was trying to befriend you. Maybe even date you.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I hated the disappointment I felt. If I hadn’t found out he was a dentist, I might’ve actually liked him.
“I’m always right,” Emily said, and I chuckled at her lack of humility.
“I should go. I need to keep searching for a job.”
“Love you,” Emily said, the lingering pity evident in her tone. “It’s going to work out. I know it.”
“I sure hope so. And I love you too.” I hung up the phone and then headed back into the living room with my bowl of mac and cheese. The bowl was insanely hot, and I quickly set it on the side table, burning my fingers slightly in the process. I stuck the burned tips of my fingers in my mouth, wincing.
Just then, my phone pinged, and I pulled my fingers out of my mouth, wiped them on my jeans, and quickly tapped my phone screen to see who had texted.
I was expecting Emily, so when Jay’s name appeared on my screen, I squeaked and threw the phone onto the couch.
“No…” Anxiety seized my muscles. And it took me a few minutes to even find the courage to pick the phone back up and read the text message.
JAY: I don’t know what I did, but I’d like to make it right.
I bit my lip. It would be impossible to explain it all tohim. After several minutes of staring at the message, I decided it would be best not to respond. Maybe if I ghosted him, he’d get the clue and eventually give up.
Another text pinged, and I jumped again, my heart racing at the sound.
JAY: I’m sorry if I offended you in some way.
I groaned and threw the phone back onto the couch. I sat on the opposite end and put my head in my hands. Why did he have to be a dentist? Literally any other profession, and I would’ve been fine.
I let out a long sigh. I should’ve known better. But my love for the written word made me more prone to believing in fantasies, and it was always a harsh reminder when I realized I didn’t live in those fictional worlds. This was reality, and most of the time, reality really, really sucked.
CHAPTER 10
As the week dragged on, I knew I was running out of time. I’d been hiding away like a crazed hermit crab, switching between tabs on my computer: job searches, Pinterest, and my manuscript.
I’d applied for more than twenty positions around town but still hadn’t heard back from anyone yet. So while I waited for someone to respond, I wrote.
My manuscriptAll the Lightswas a realistic fiction about a woman named Vivian who owned an art gallery in a small town called Maplewood. Vivian was everything I wasn’t. She was steady, brave, and completely sure of herself. I envied my own fictional character if I was being honest.
I stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, mocking me. Only a third of the book was written, and already I felt like a fraud. I wanted to write something that mattered. My favorite author, Lindy Parker, had gotten me into reading, and though it sounded dramatic, she changed my life. And knowing that my writing could literally have thepower to change someone’s life, their mindset, their beliefs felt both daunting and inspiring. I wanted so badly to write something just like that. But today was obviously not going to be that day, because everything I was putting out sounded like a third grader wrote it.
With a groan, I slammed the laptop shut. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled. It was almost eight o’clock, and time for some more prepackaged noodles. I was really hoping I’d feel safe enough to leave the house soon so I could buy some actual fresh produce.
Maybe tomorrow.
I stood up to head toward the kitchen and start making myself something when I suddenly heard a massive crashing noise from outside the cabin.
My entire body tensed, and I stilled mid-stride. “What the?—”
