“Honey? Koty?”
“Don’t call me that,” I mutter and instantly regret it. “Sorry, Mom.”
“You all right?”
“Just tired,” I lie as the girl steps even closer to Zane—and he doesn’t pull back, instead letting her lean in, whisper something in his ear.
Crap.
“I’ll let you rest, then,” Mom says. “Everyone says hi. Jody, Evan, Percy, Madeline.”
“Thanks.” I feel real bad for blowing her off, but I feel as if my heart will stop beating. Which is ridiculous. I barely know Zane.
“Did you know Aunt Carolina is organizing an exhibition? Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Yes, it is,” I say. Aunt Carolina had cancer, but she’s been out of the hospital for a few months now and is already back to her active self. “Give her my love.”
Just then Zane distracts me again by turning around and leaving the bar.
Leaving the girl behind. She looks as surprised by this turn of events as I am, her mouth literally hanging open.
Well, well. Relief swamps me, although a small voice in my mind wonders if he’s just off looking for another girl to satisfy him.
***
The next few days are warm and humid. Bella, my current roommate, keeps complaining about the weather. It makes her hair frizzy and her skin break out in rashes, and she just isn’t happy with anything right now. I think, secretly, she just doesn’t want me to move out, doesn’t want her life to change. While Scott, her boyfriend of four years, lived in Chicago, Bella had her own life here. But now he’s moving in with her, and they’re thinking about getting married and having children and the whole shebang.
Which means I have to find another place to stay. And it’s fine. I’m happy if she’s happy. A bit uncertain, but happy.
I can’t imagine trusting and loving someone so much you’ll follow them, plan a whole future with them and leave your old life behind.
Not again. Not anymore.
Today is Thursday and warmer than ever. Sweat trickles down my back, tickling. I’ve been working on a project for a client—I do posters and business cards and stuff like that for a fee, and it complements what my parents give me. Graphic arts is what I’m studying, after all, and it’s good practice. I upload the files on Dropbox for my client to download and close the lid of my laptop.
Can’t put this off any longer. I must pack. I’m sorting through my clothes when Bella wanders into my room, a mug in her hand.
She looks at the suitcase I have opened on my bed, and her eyes go round. “Found a place to stay?”
I shake my head and rub the back of my neck. I’ve pulled the longer tufts of my hair up to cool myself, but it isn’t doing much.
“What’s that on your shoulder?” Bella steps closer. “A drawing?”
Oh right. After hooking up with sexy guys, other girls have hickeys. I have a ballpoint pen drawing. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s pretty. Who’s the artist?” Bella is studying graphic design, like me, and has an eye for art.
“You don’t know him,” I lie and pull my blouse up, so she can’t see the signature. Zane is quite known in the local tattoo scene.
“Are you getting a tattoo and not telling me?” She narrows her chocolate eyes at me. The silver stud in her tiny nose catches the light.
“Maybe.” A dragon. By Zane. One day…
“It’s too warm. It’s a day for ice cream,” Bella says and sighs but then wanders away without saying if she would like to go have some or not.
So I go back to gathering my stuff, packing it in cardboard boxes, sorting through things I’ve hoarded over the years. I’m a hoarder. I hang on to memories. Saving mementos, putting them in files and shoeboxes, makes me happy. It’s as if I can keep the moments intact.
Nonsense, of course, and I do my best to throw away old receipts and postcards and souvenirs. I can’t take everything with me. Wherever it is I’m going. Because, let’s face it, I haven’t put much energy into finding a new place.