17

CARLY

 

I hear a door slam so loud it makes me jump.

I sit, waiting, ears peeled. Then, no other noise.

Before I go to bed and put an end to this craptastic day, one thing is going to go my way. It might not be fun, but I’m about to deal with Jon, Caitlin, and Steph.  On the bus ride home, I toyed with the idea of doing what I’m about to do, but my convo with my Mom sealed it for me.  Tomorrow, I wanna wake up with no baggage weighing on me so I can focus on rocking my job. This means I need to deal with the three stooges. Now. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. End this bad day with something good. Closure.

First: Caitlin. 

I text her.

“As you probably heard, I relocated. I’m in California. The apartment needs to be vacant by the end of the month. I can’t help you any longer, Cait. I’m sorry but I have to step back. Please get into rehab. Get some help. I have to take the same stand as Mom and Dad. You screwed me with my credit card and you’re lucky I’ve decided to pay it rather than report it to the cops. I don’t believe you when you say you didn’t pawn our G’s jewelry.  I love you, but you make me sad. I am suddenly single, suddenly without a best friend, and my sister has hurt me just too many times. I have to take care of me. Take care of you & pls get help. I left you pamphlets for rehab. It’s up to you now. I can’t pay your cell bill again this month, so you’re on your own after the 30th. I hope you find your way. I pray for you & always always want the best for you.”

I hesitate before hitting send.

No. Do it.

I do it.

There; done.

I then block her number.

I take in a big breath through my nose and slowly let it out through my teeth, cheeks puffed.

Next… Stephanie Dearest.

I open the inbox message from her on my Facebook app and re-read her last message telling me she wants to explain. There’s another message below it.

“I’m a horrible bitch. I am just a selfish judgmental projecting cow. Please please please know how shitty I feel that you’ve seen how ugly I actually am inside. I see myself through your eyes right now. I heard you got a new job in Cali. I’m happy & jelly. I don’t know why the shit that comes out of my mouth is so toxic sometimes. I’m going to work on that. You didn’t deserve what I said. I don’t deserve a bff like you. I hope that even though that’s true, that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. I’m so sad I don’t get to be excited for the new life you’ve got. But honestly, I’m too jealous and toxic right now so I wouldn’t be any good for you anyway. I’d just be over here being green with envy. I deserve as many bad things as you can say about me. And it even makes me mad that you probably won’t say bad things about me. You’re a much better person than I am. I hope when your work contract is over, we can meet for coffee and talk, Carly Dearest. You’re always going to be my Carly Dearest. Your stupid Stephanie un-dearest. Xo”

The dots tell me she’s typing a new message. She must’ve seen my read receipt and now she’s typing.

I wait until it stops. It takes a while. I feel bad for about half a second, but no. This is classic Steph. Apologizing for being toxic and making this about her somehow. She’s justified her behavior by saying she’s got irrational feelings so, of course, I should forgive her.  Gimme a break.

But, it doesn’t change anything, does it? She still said and thought those things about me. How could I ever trust her again? Not like I did, that’s for sure.

The Facebook app dings as her new message comes through.

“I owe you an explanation about Jon. He was bitching to me for months about being bored with you because you take your job so serious, because you’re a drag.  I also know he was talking to Tom before you guys broke up. You both are THE topic of convo in our friend group. Tom said Jon broke up with you just so he could sleep with that Roxanne skank, and planned to make up afterwards so he wasn’t technically cheating. Said he needed to get into adult mode like you so he was gonna break up for a month and get as much action as he could, then get back w u and buckle down and start adulting. It backfired. We are all talking about the pics you posted yesterday on FB & IG. He was ready to grovel when he found out you were in Cali, figuring he could keep fucking around until you get back. But now, he sees your makeover (you look so amazing btw. Serious bombshell. I hate you a little.) and your new job and all that success and that you don’t look like you’re pining away and he’s kicking himself.  Tom said he’s one hot mess on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He’s talking about flying down there to win you back, maybe see if he can stay down there w u and get a job. Your Mom told him your job has you in a corp apt and so he would totally come down and leech off you. Do NOT take him back. He doesn’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you either, but I hope you’ll take me back. I’m proud of you for bouncing back like this. Still hate you a little with my green envy eyes but Love u 4ever too. Xo.

 

Whoa. Whoa.

As I absorb that, my throat is dry. I’m parched.

One more message comes in.

“You don’t have to reply. Knowing you’ve read this is enough for me for now. Call me when you’re ready.”

Oh, how generous of you, Steph. I stick my tongue out and blow a raspberry at my phone.

I look at my door and purse my lips. I don’t wanna go back out there so I decide to settle for some tap water. I grab an empty water bottle from the table beside my bed and decide to take it to the bathroom to rinse and refill it.

When I get to the hallway, I see the pocket doors are wide open. All the lights are on, but it looks like no one’s out there. I go to the fridge and fill my water bottle with water from the dispenser on the front of the fridge instead. I check the lock, seeing it’s already locked, then turn out all the lights except for the little one over the stove so that when he gets home, he’ll have a bit of light, and then I head back to my room. It’s stuffy in here. I open the windows wide before I lift my phone and stare at Jon’s contact details for a minute. I take a deep breath. Two. Three.

And then I sit sideways on the wide windowsill, cocking my knees. and dial.

He answers with my name instead of by saying hello.

“Yeah,” I say, flatly.

“Oh, thank God. We need to talk. I… I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did. You fucked up, Jon.”

“We need to make it right, babe.”

“We don’t.”

“Carly…”

“Nope. You and me? Done. You break up with me and break my fuckin’ heart like that? Tell me we don’t work, that you don’t see the future you want if you’re with me and I find out you have a date that same day? That was the end. There’s no making it right after that.”

I’m yelling now. All the emotion is bubbling over.

“Babe…”

“You fucked her that day, didn’t you?” I snap.

He doesn’t answer.

“You don’t need to answer. I know you and your game. I know all about it. Break up with me to fuck around, thinkin’ it’s guilt-free if we’re not together. Go sow your wild oats, figuring I’m crying my eyes out and pining for you, then get me back when you’re done being an asshat. Wrong. WRONG motherfucker.”

“Carly, please let me explain. Sometimes it takes something like this to be able to see what’s really----"

“No! Fuck no. You did me a favor, Jonathan. You did. Because now I’m free to find someone who isn’t a selfish asshole who complains that I’m too grown up, too responsible. Too boring behind my back. I’m free to find someone who won’t forget our anniversary. Who will take more than ten minutes to have sex and make sure I actually enjoy it!”

He doesn’t answer that. Direct hit right between the eyes.

Oh yeah. Nice girl Carly, Femme-bot Carly? She took a hike.

“Nothing to say now? Hope you enjoy sowing those wild oats, Jonny-boy, because this girl is ready to find better and bigger things. Get me?”

Yeah, I said bigger. It’s a low blow, but fuck him! He hurt me. 

He doesn’t reply, so I continue.

“Don’t call me anymore. You broke up with me. You fucked some girl the day we broke up after being with me for two fucking years, thinking you could go play and that I’d wait around until you were ready to start adulting? Go do whatever the fuck you want. I’m not only adulting down here in sunny California, making three times the money I made at home, living in a sweet condo enjoying ocean views… guess what else? I’ve also got a hot millionaire flirting with me on a daily basis. And he looks at me like he wants to have me for lunch. Maybe I’ll let him.”

Is Aiden a millionaire? Don’t know. Maybe he’s a billionaire. Whatever.

“You’re not even a thousandaire and I would’ve been loyal and faithful to you until we died, Jon.” My emotion is leaking out of my eyes now. Great.

“Carly, babe. Please. I lu-love you. I fucked up.”

“Nope. You don’t love me. You probably never did. How could you treat someone you love like that? Lose my number. Better yet, don’t matter; I’m changing my number to a 6-1-9. I hope that old number haunts you enough that your next girlfriend, you treat better. You fucked up, buddy. You fucked up, large. I’m gonna be a successful adult down here. You go ahead and try to find someone better than me. More exciting than me. Have a blast!”

I hang up.

My heart is racing. Galloping. I’m filled with adrenalin. I want to scream out. Primal scream therapy. And maybe even laugh maniacally. And…

I hear noise. A door closes.

I thought I smelled cigarette smoke, but I was too caught up in my conversation.

I gasp. God, did Aiden hear me on the phone? I was really shouting.

Was that the balcony or the hallway? He might’ve been out there smoking.

My window is open so if it was the balcony door, everything would’ve been audible.

Is he alone? Did that girl he was arguing with leave or did they go have make-up sex?

I step out onto the balcony and take in some air while drinking from my water bottle.

Everything is quiet out here. The view is amazing.  I breathe in and out a few times and then I breathe in again, deep. I picture the bad stuff, Jon, Cait, Steph? I picture it floating away on the breeze.

Whoosh. Gone.

I exhale slowly.

I’m gonna sleep good tonight, I think.  I’m glad I gave Jon a piece of my mind.  I feel like I’ve closed a chapter. With everything from home that I was carrying around like a giant weight on my shoulders for the past week --- I’m glad I made that call, sent those messages.

I hear a door. I look to my right and see a head in the dark approach the railing just around the corner. A bare-chested male person. Aiden. That’s the door to his bedroom. He spots me and steps back in and shuts his door without saying anything. Maybe he does have company. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel like people-ing.

I go back into my room, closing the door harder than necessary so that he maybe hears and knows he can make use of the outdoor space if he needs to.

I plug in my phone, making sure the volume is loud and the alarm is set so I don’t sleep in again. Tomorrow, I’m going to rock my day at work.

Tonight, I’m going to sleep like a baby.

 

***

 

It’s the next day at work and it is not a good day. He’s in some sort of tyrant mode.

He hollered out that there was a typo in a tweet. It’s not my tweet. It was scheduled from weeks back, but I get hollered at.

“How do people who do this for a living not know you don’t pluralize a word with a goddamn apostrophe?”

“I agree. But A) it’s not my tweet. B) Autocorrect is ducked.”

That’s my autocorrect humor joke and it never fails to get a chuckle. Until now. He just glares at me.

When I manage to convince him it wasn’t my tweet, my face is burning red because the whole office can hear him yelling at me.

And then he needs something for a meeting and Stacy the intern, is having a problem with the photo copier and a paper jam. I’m in the copy room, trying to help her, and he comes in and barks at both of us to call a repairman instead of wasting time.

Blake, another intern comes in and gets the paper jam fixed for us fast.

In the late morning, I’m in the coffee room and the machine is overflowing, so I try to clean it up and he comes in with his father and they see me cleaning the mess so I’m betting they assume I’ve made it.

“Someone must have pushed the button to brew a new carafe when the carafe was already full,” I say.

“Oops,” Mr. C smiles and looks on sympathetically as I’m dropping paper towels all over the place.

“We’ll get coffee downstairs,” Aiden grumbles, and they both leave me with the giant mess, not even offering to help.

Other than those mishaps, I’m determined to rock my day.

Ally and I go for lunch down the road to a little sandwich place and we run into Austin Carmichael while we’re there.

Ally tries to chat him up. He has no idea who we are, even with her pink hair standing out at the office, so she introduces us.

He apologizes and tells us it’s fiscal year end so he’s a bit of a zombie. He joins us for lunch and there’s small talk for a minute, about Ally being from Baltimore and me being from Buffalo and then, strangely, out of the blue, while Ally has dashed to the bathroom, Austin leans over.

“Go to dinner with me tonight?”

I’m in absolute shock over it.

But, he’s charming and good-looking, and seems almost, but not quite shy about it. Maybe it’s not shyness. I can’t quite put my finger on it. He’s as handsome as a soap opera actor. He’s got a beautiful smile and striking blue eyes.

“But we already have a date,” I say, flirtily as Ally’s coming back to the table.

Austin’s eyes go wide and intrigued.

“Not that kind of date,” I tease “Just kidding. A girlie night out. Meryl from the Philippines is coming.”

He gives me a beautiful smile and it strikes me that he looks an awful lot like his brother. But he doesn’t have that bad boy edge about him.

Aiden’s smiles are rare so far but are always a little bit salacious.

Austin’s smile seems a lot more genuine.

“That was tomorrow, Carly,” Ally lies, giving me big eyes and a sneaky smile as she pours sugar from a packet into her coffee.

“We weren’t doing the girls night out tonight?” I ask.

“Nope. Definitely tomorrow,” she lies some more.

“Oh…”

“Then we’re on,” Austin says with a big smile.

My face goes a little flushed. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

So, I’ve said yes, that I’ll go out with him. But, I’m thinking it’s a terrible idea.  Why did I say yes?

The three of us finish eating lunch together and walk back to the office together. Austin walks me directly to my cubicle and puts my number into his phone then recites his to me, so I can put it in my phone before he’s turning to leave, saying he’ll pick me up at seven thirty, if that’s not too late, since he has to work late.

“7:30 sounds good,” I say, smiling at him.

“Yo!” I hear.

Aiden’s in his office and his eyes are on his brother, who’s casually leaned against the full wall on the non-Ally side of my cubicle, his back to Aiden’s office. Austin looks over his shoulder.

“Here,” Aiden orders.

“Be right back, Carly,” Austin winks at me and my heart flip-flops. That wink just changed his demeanor from kind of wholesome to… something else.

Oh my.

I watch as he goes into Aiden’s office. Aiden shuts the door and is standing there; they’re facing off, kind of, because Aiden looks… alpha. Aggressive. Sort of sexy. Who am I kidding? Aiden always looks sexy. Austin has walked in there like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s not acting intimidated at all. He’s the same height as Aiden. Austin’s hair is a little shorter, a bit fairer, and he’s got blue eyes instead of chocolate brown like Aiden’s. They have a similar build. Or so it seems with them both being fully clothed. I’d have to see Austin in his underwear to be able to properly compare. Or a pair of grey sweatpants. My mind wanders to that potential image. No. Stop, Carly.

I turn sideways and call Ally’s name in a stage whisper. She pops up like a colorful jack-in-the-box, smiling at me.

“Did you hear all that?” I ask.

She nods rapidly, and her eyes are wide and shiny. She’s loving the drama.

“Pretend to talk to me,” I urge, jerking my head to the side toward Aiden’s office to direct her attention there. I want to have a pretend convo so that I can sort of keep my eyes peeled on what’s happening there. Other than the door, the whole office is windows so it’s easy to see what’s happening from this angle.

She pops back down and then up again, notebook and pen in hand. She clicks the pink pen. “Do you have any idea what font you’d like for that infographic I’m helping you with?” She is on the ball.