Fuck It (Yama Yama)

The next morning we pack up and get ready to return home. It’s been a long three days, and somehow, I’ve gone from being mad at Anderson on the way here to being his girlfriend as we prepare to leave.

We run into Kasha and Henley when we’re putting our luggage into the car. Henley frowns at me, staring at my eye that’s still bloodshot.

“What happened to your eye? Do you have pink eye? That’s really contagious.” She backs away like I might decide to rub my eyeball on her.

“It’s not pink eye. Or contagious. I’m fine. I just…got something in it yesterday. It’s irritated.”

The corners of Kasha’s lips twitch as she scrutinizes me.

“Are you sure it isn’t pink eye? There’s a clinic here,” Henley persists.

“I’m sure.”

Kasha grabs Henley’s arm and tugs. “She’s fine. Leave her be. Eye just has a little cummy ache. It happens. Let’s go.”

“Shut up,” I grumble, elbowing Anderson in the stomach when he shakes with laughter.

CHAPTER 18

LYDIA

It’s been a week since we returned from our trip. Over a week since I’ve talked or heard from Simon. I’ve started to text him so many times. Even just to check and see how he’s doing. But I haven’t. The unexpected heaviness I feel, the way I can’t stop thinking about him, makes me want to show up at his place and tell him I know what I want. A relationship with him. I’d gotten to that point before, hadn’t I?

Yeah, and now look at me. Hurt and hiding when he comes to pick up Toby from the afterschool program.

I let my feelings override the logical decision I’d made to…what? Never get serious again? Is that what I want? To be alone forever so I never have to worry about being left or cheated on? So that I never have to feel like this again?

Ugh, I don’t know. All I know right now is I miss him. Kasha says I need to pull my head out of my ass, and part of me thinks she’s right.

The only thing that’s kept me going this week was looking forward to the interview with Fresh Take, the upscale fitness center. I know, it sounds like a salad bar, but it could be worse. At least it doesn’t sound like a naked hard-on when said aloud.

The woman and man who interview me ask the same questions that are covered on my resume, but seem impressed with my answers. When I shake the man’s hand and he excuses himself, I assume the interview is over, but the woman—Hallie, that’s her name—offers to show me around.

“I’d like that.” Why is she showing me around? Am I hired? Neither of them has said one way or another yet.

This place is fancy. And a bit uppity, but for the price the members pay here, I guess the expensive athletic wear and high-priced sneakers are to be expected.

Hallie walks me through each section of all three floors. If there’s a piece of exercise equipment, this place has it. I’m led upstairs to see the running track that wraps around the top floor, then downstairs to admire the expansive swimming pool, and back to the main level where a steam room and a smoothie bar may have me daydreaming about living here.

Hallie does most of the talking, but we’re greeted with smiles from other staff. Guests also don’t hesitate to say hello, and she knows quite a few by name. Maybe I judged this place a little too quickly on being stuck up. It’s just lavish, richer than I’m accustomed to.

When we get past the locker rooms, I follow her through a door that bears a staff only sign and back to another smaller office.

“What do you think?” she asks.

“I think this place is amazing. I hope I’ll get the opportunity to work here.”

Her smile is bright and instant. She gestures to the chair in front of the desk and slides a sheet of paper across to me. My heart leaps forward. It’s a job offer.

Be cool, Lydia. Don’t just take what they’re offering without reading it carefully. Three times my current salary, benefits, lots of flexibility in my hours. Free membership to use all equipment and amenities, complimentary smoothies. I wonder if she’d still hire me if I dove across the desk and kissed her?

Twenty minutes later, after some further discussion and clarification of the offer, I’m walking into the sunny parking lot with a smile so big it hurts my face. They agreed to let me give Hawthorne Elementary three weeks’ notice. I wanted to give them a chance to hire someone else since I know there’s no one to take my place but Coach Bro.

When I climb into my car, my first urge is to call Simon and tell him. My fingers hover over the screen. He told me we could talk when I figure out what I want. It wouldn’t be fair, would it? To call just because I want to hear his voice and tell him my good news.