My room was really warm and I curled up in my bed. This was the safest place on earth for me. I could hide here forever and be okay. My phone vibrated in my pajama pocket. It was my mom, the last person I wanted to talk to. I answered it anyway.

“April, dear, you look awful.”

“Thanks mom.”

“Sorry. Are you sick?”

“No. I’m just not wearing makeup.”

“Oh… Well…”

“It’s nighttime, mom.”

“Doesn’t mean you should stop trying. I wanted to see how you are.”

“Not just make me feel awful?”

“Of course not. You know I care. I was there the whole time you were broken by that awful drunk driver.”

“I know, mom.”

“Which was over a year ago. It’s never too late to get back in shape, honey.”

“I already feel shitty enough, mom.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She fell silent for a moment and straightened her dress. “I’ll change the subject. I will be going to a garden and tea party tomorrow. Guess who will be there.”

“Who?”

“Mrs. Middleton. That woman took my month to do it. She knew it was my turn to host, and yet here she is. As if the wedding wasn’t party enough for her.” My mom and Tom’s mom were the kind of friends that hated each other. I heard enough of it when I was together with Tom, hearing it when I was lonely was much worse. It served as a reminder of my past.

“I don’t even think I can go to that wedding, Mom.”

“What!?” My mom began messing with her hair frantically. “You must. There is no way you aren’t going to this party. They stuck with you when you were in the hospital, it’s the least you could do.”

“I feel bad enough for not going, you don’t have rub it in my face too.”

“You’re going. If you don’t go they will know you are still upset, and then they will blame me, and it will be an absolute mess.”

“I really don’t want to go a fat, lonely slob.”

“The Middletons are our oldest friends. You aren’t going to ruin our friendship with them.”

“You and dad don’t even like them anymore. You were just bitching about her.”

“Watch your language.”

“Sorry.”

“And your father still likes Roger.”

“No he doesn’t. They argue all the time.”

“It’s like politics, dear. They are having lively discussions.”

“No, they argue about dumb things like who knows more about what and what is the classiest this and that.”

“That’s politics.”

“I don’t think a friendship would be ruined if I couldn’t make it to a wedding party.”

“Clearly you don’t know the Middletons anymore.”

I sighed. I really didn’t know them anymore, but I had known their family well enough when I was on my way to be part of it. There was no arguing with my mom, she always had to be right, another thing that her and Denise had in common. They should be best friends. I quickly tried to change the subject. I didn’t want every time I talked to my mom to be having to hear her complain and nag. She was only like this because I wasn’t at home for her to keep a close eye on. I never really got to see her, and I saw my dad even less. “I miss dad.”

“He misses you too, honey. Want to talk to him?”

“If he is around.”

My dad popped out from around the phone corner. “Hi, honey!” I was a little embarrassed that he had heard all of that.

“Hi, dad.”

“How is life?”

“Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of broke. And I haven’t been getting any work freelancing.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, sweetie. You can always follow in your mom’s footsteps.”

“What’s that?”

“Sit around and use my money. Join the family business.” I laughed and my mom smacked him away.

“Shut it, Roger. Tell your daughter she has to go to the wedding.”

“You have to go, April.”

“But why?”

“Because they are our friends and they are nice people. I know it is hard to see Tom, especially after everything. Doesn’t it make you happy enough to know that he is happy?”

“No. It makes me miserable.”

“Aw.” Both my parents sighed. My dad left the frame and left my mom to help, which wasn’t any help at all.

“Wouldn’t we all be happier if we just stopped being friends with that family all together?”

“Probably.”

“Great! Then that’s the plan.” My mom shook her head and sighed.

“No way. We share the same social group. I know that Denise would use her little blabber mouth to spread rumors about what I have said about them.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t complain about them to her.”

“Well, it’s too late for that. And these are my friends too. She can’t just steal them like she stole my spot for the garden party.”

“I don’t even have a date.”

“You don’t need a date, you have your dad and I.”

“I can’t show up to my ex-fiancés wedding alone.”

“Sure you can.”

“Would you?” She got silent again and then left the room, going into her reading room.

“No, I probably wouldn’t.”

“Then why should I?”

“Because I’m your mother and I said so.”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“And you’re going. And that’s that.”

“Your logic is unparalleled, mom.”

I missed my mom, as much as she helped me feel bad about myself. We had a lot in common. She had also been left by someone. He was the man just before my father. She claimed she didn’t love him, that he didn’t really mean that much to her. It was someone that she had known since childhood. Their parents had paired them together. Supposedly they were inseparable as kids. My grandma said that they grew more and more distant the older they became. After the engagement he decided that he wanted to follow his dream of moving to Europe. My mom was against this idea but was willing to travel if it meant following him. Then he decided he wanted to go to Africa, and when my mom kept offering to follow him he decided to tell her that they were through and that he had met someone else. My mom hates talking about it. My grandma said she was sick for months after it, unable to eat or sleep. I knew just what she had been going through.

“If you don’t go we will be very disappointed.” I assumed my mom might have had some sympathy on me, since she had been through the same thing.

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, sweetie. We can send you some money to help you through this month. I’ll see if I can help find you a job.”

“Thanks, mom. But I’m not happy about this.”

“You’ll forgive me.”

“I guess.”

“We will have a good time.”

“I doubt it.”

“Well, I’m going to get going before you can change your mind. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

“Bye mom.”

“Bye, sweetie.” My phone clicked off and I stared at my wall for a while. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to go to the wedding. The less I did the slower time moved. It seemed I had run out of options. I was either going to have to find a magic lamp to rub in the next few days or I was going to have to talk Travis’ hooker.

I can’t believe I was stooping this low. I feel so pathetic. This is nowhere near where I thought I was going to be at this time in my life. I could tell my parents were disappointed too. If any of my professors had found out, they would probably be nice but also doubtful of a future for me. I didn’t have any connections to work off of. I didn’t have as much as I did when I was in school. I was fat, single, and broke, the three least desirable traits a person can have.

I never thought in my life I would come in contact with a sex worker, let alone hire one. Meditating on this for a while I knew I had no other options. Maybe I could Facebook an old boyfriend from high school, or maybe I could fake my own death and run away to another state, or maybe another planet. I could become a hermit and demand squatters rights and panhandle for trade.

My phone felt hot in my hands. I typed out the message. “If I have to go to this wedding, I’m not going to go alone.” I sorted through my dresses in my closet. Hopefully my parents would send me enough money that I could buy a new one. My fat clothes didn’t fit me as well, and my skinny clothes would probably never fit me again. Even my shoes felt weird on my feet. I was another person trying to squeeze into the shell of someone else, the past me, a much smaller and happier person.