LIZ
Uhhhhhh.
My head.
I feel like I was hit by a truck.
I awake in my room, lying across the bed as if I just collapsed on top of it, still in my dress and heels. My head throbs to the beat of my heart, and I want to punch things.
How in the hell did I get here?
Kicking off my heels, I crawl up to my pillow, which looks like it’s vibrating, climb under my blanket, and fall back to sleep.
A few hours later, I awake to the sound of laughter coming from the other room. My head has finally stopped throbbing, but my throat is so dry that I can barely swallow. Finding my footing, I make my way to my bedroom door.
The hall is a bit fuzzy, I must still be buzzed. The further I get into the hall, the louder the laughter gets, sending my body into ‘kill me’ mode, as it starts flirting with my headache again.
The hall in our apartment is short, and even though it should take less than a 20 seconds to reach the end, it seems a mile long right now. My feet slide lazily over the thick gray carpet as I pass the many photos we have lining the walls that display pivotal moments in our lives together. A mid-sized portrait of Ros and I embracing in flowery dresses at our eighth-grade dance, a few more photos of the same size at Junior and Senior Prom, and a larger one of at high school graduation.
Ros and Brooke are sitting at the table in the attached dining area looking at Ros’ phone.
“You’re finally up, boo, come look at the pictures from last night. They are hilarious!” Ros says.
“It’s like 3p.m., Liz. We had to come check on you a few times to make sure you were still alive,” Brooke says, concern lighting her eyes.
“Water,” I croak. My damn throat feels like I’ve been screaming all night in a desert of dust.
“Already got it covered.” Brooke nods to the pitcher of ice water and glasses on the table.
I collapse into the nearest chair and pour a glass of water. Ros slides into the chair next to me and begins flipping through her photos. I don’t remember taking any pictures, but there I am, smiling too damn big and dancing too damn hard. My eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Don’t remember, huh? Girl, you were so wasted!” Ros laughs, reading my mind.
“How are you feeling? We cut you off once you started hugging people,” Brooke says with a grin.
“I’m good, my throat hurts though, and I still might be a little buzzed… Wait, did you say hugging people?”
“Yep.”
They both laugh.
“Your throat is probably hurting because you kept yelling “I’M MRS. DIVORCED, BITCH!” People kept high-fiving you and buying you drinks…see.” Ros flips through a few more pictures.
Strangers, all complete strangers, and I’m smiling with them like I’ve known them for years.
Ros points to few more pictures of me and random people, then one of me and a person who’s not so random.
“Wait, I remember him.”
“Oh yeah, rebound guy,” Ros says, smiling.
I roll my eyes at her.
Fragments of memories start to surface in my mind as I look at the picture of me pressed against Teeth…the guy with the big smile…the guy who made me blush.
“So he ended up getting his dance after all,” I say with a slight smirk, shaking my head.
“Huh? No, you went up to him while he was dancing with someone else; cut the other girl off completely,” Ros adds.
“Oh god, are you serious?!” I say.
Ros and Brooke, both sporting Cheshire grins, nod adamantly. I didn’t actually do that, did I? Ugh, I can’t believe I actually did that.
“Hold on, I remember him staring at me. I remember him dancing with a girl, but he kept looking over her shoulder at me. I don’t remember grabbing his hand, though… Oh my god!” I cover my face in embarrassment.
“He was so nice, Liz. He even carried you to the Uber car for us later that night.”
“Carried?!” I exclaim.
“Haha, I’m kidding. You had a lot of fun…I did my job well,” Ros says, looking accomplished.
“Liz, you’re such a lightweight!” Brooke teases.
I place my elbow on the table and then rest my forehead in my hand, covering my face again. I’m so embarrassed.
We look at more pictures; many are of the four of us doing group selfies, and a few of just me and Ros. As shitty as I feel now, I really did have fun last night… the parts I remember anyway.
I down a few glasses of water as we sit talking about the guys Ros and Brooke met last night. Brooke seems hopeful about this guy Caleb she met last night; apparently, they’ve been texting all morning.
I wish Sean had come; I probably wouldn’t have embarrassed myself as much. Well, shit, I actually might have embarrassed myself more, but if he was there, at least he would’ve seen how happy I am about my divorce. Maybe it would’ve been enough to prove to him that I’m really over my ex-husband. Maybe…
“Lizzy, where’d you go?” Brooke says, staring at me.
“Huh?”
“You kind of zoned out on us there, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You better not be thinking about Sean!” Ros says sternly.
“You need to start thinking about that sexy rebound,” Brooke adds, smiling.
“I wish y’all would stop calling him that,” I huff as my two friends laugh.
“Fine, fine.”
We make small talk for a few minutes before I excuse myself for a much-needed shower.
As of this morning, I’m officially divorced. I’m so happy to be rid of Grayson once and for all, but I wonder if Sean will feel the same. I’m excited to tell him, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. My divorce not being final was his reason for leaving, and even if I don’t understand the suddenness of his decision, it doesn’t make it any less real. I still miss him, and now I’m officially free to be totally his.
I grab my phone and move to his contact, allowing my finger to hover over the call button.
Flashes of the cold look he gave me when he told me he was done, and the anger behind his words, grip my chest.
What if he doesn’t care?
The fear of rejection sinks in. I’m actually in a better mood right now than I have been in weeks. Well, minus the hangover, maybe I’ll give myself a little more time before having to deal with this shit. Officially cutting all ties to Grayson deserves to be celebrated, and if for no other reason, for my sister.
I let the phone slide out of my hand and onto the bed. Taking a deep breath, I stand and head toward my shower.
The doorbell rings, and I see Ros get up from the table to let our friend, Marie, in as I emerge from my bedroom. I think my buzz is finally wearing off… and I feel even more like shit.
“Hey, Marie.”
“Hey, girls, damn y’all look like hell!” Marie says, laughing.
I look over at Ros and Brooke, and for the first time, I notice their current state. Brooke looks flushed, her blue eyes are bloodshot, and her long dirty blonde hair is pulled up in a ponytail at the top of her head, with random pieces falling from the back. She is wearing a frumpy sleep dress and fluffy house shoes. Ros looks dead tired even though she seems pretty alert and is wearing an old t-shirt and jogging pants. Her hair is also pulled back into a ponytail and her usual soft caramel complexion is pale by comparison. Hangovers are a bitch!
“It was Lizzy’s divorce celebration last night, so we went to The Lounge.”
“Oh congratulations, Liz!” Marie smiles. “So to top off the celebration, y’all ready for some mani/pedis?”
“Um, heck yeah we’re ready for mani/pedis!” Ros says in a lighthearted tone.
Ros and I met Marie at school. She’s in the Cosmetology program, and once a month she comes to practice her new skill before her test. During these tests, they make her demonstrate whatever she learned for the month, and it turns into a win-win situation for us all.
“Cool. Liz, you missed out last month. We learned hair color rinses, and everyone got to try out a new color,” Marie says before she walks out the door.
“Girl, you lucked out, those rinses were HORRIBLE!” Ros whispers after the door closes behind Marie.
“Yeah, I washed that mess out as soon as she left. It was so bad!” Brooke adds.
“Damn,” I say, then look at my hands, wondering if I’m about to regret letting her do my nails.
Marie comes back inside, carrying three foot baths and a large bag of supplies that smells like nail polish remover and acrylic.
“So it’s midterm demonstration time, and I was assigned mani/pedis. I’ve done them before, so I’m pretty confident, especially with the acrylic, but I need to practice a bit with the gel nails,” Marie says with her back to us as she sets up in the living room. The three of us exchange a look of concern.
I mean she can’t mess this up too bad, right?
We move to the living room as Marie goes to fill each of the foot baths with warm water.
“Let’s say a prayer… please protect our nails, Father,” Brooke whispers which causes Ros and I to laugh.
The last time Marie came over, I was completely indisposed. Sean and I had just broken up, and I didn’t want to be bothered with anyone, free hair color rinses or not.
Marie hums as she rifles through her bags. “Well, you can start soaking your feet when ready.”
She adds drops of something that smells like peppermint to each of our bubbling foot baths, then returns to her bag, pulling out nail products, scrubbing salts, oil, pumice stones, and towels.
After wearing those heels all night, I wish she’d come over every morning after we go out.
“Where’s Kesha?” Marie asks.
“She hooked up with a guy last night as we were at The Lounge,” Brooke responds.
Marie nods and then starts working the salt scrub into Ros’ feet.
“So, Liz,” Brooke says after a few minutes.
“You know I love you, but you really worry me , honey. You’ve been so down recently, and it was so nice seeing you laugh and have fun last night. I know how important your relationship with Sean was, but maybe it really is time to hang out with some other people, you know?”
I’m completely uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.
I look over at Brooke and feel the tension begin to roll up my spine.
“Uh huh,” I murmur.
Brooke and Kesha are best friends and have been our neighbors since the day we moved in. We’ve all grown very close and spend a lot of time together. They both were there to help Ros and me while we were grieving the loss of my sister. We didn’t know each other as well back then, but Ros and I were complete wrecks when they came and introduced themselves. Brooke and Kesha brought us food, collected our mail, and helped us stand when we couldn’t help each other. They are amazing girls. It still hurts to think about Della, but she would kill me if she knew I stopped living when she did, that thought alone pushed me to enroll in school. It also allowed me to be in the proper state of mind to give a relationship with Sean a chance when I randomly bumped into him a year after she died. It felt like fate, and on our first date I couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I had let Dell introduce me to Sean the night of the gala.
“So what’s holding you back? Are you trying to get back together with Sean?” Brooke asks.
I let out a sigh and notice Ros is rolling her eyes.
I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want her to know that the minute I get the nerve I’m calling Sean to tell him about my divorce. I’m not going to say that, because I know I will get a huge lecture from the both of them.
“Uh… I don’t know. I’m just not ready to get back out there. I don’t have the energy to open myself up to anyone right now.”
“Okay, so let me ask you a question. If you had to describe the best qualities in a guy for you, what would they be?” Brooke asks, inquisitively.
She’s serious.
Marie finishes Ros’ scrub treatment and allows her to soak her feet in the water, then she moves over to begin my feet.
I don’t want to talk about this, but I know she’s only trying to help, so I decide to grin and bear it.
“Sheesh, okay,” I sigh. Perfect guy? My mind immediately goes to Sean, but would I consider him perfect?
“He would need to be sweet and attentive, ambitious,” I pause, considering, “a little impulsive—like the fun kind—and attractive. He must know his way around a woman's body,” I finish.
“Yeah, because there’s nothing worse than a sexy guy who can’t find the hole,” Ros adds.
The girls laugh.
“So now what you do is cross out all the things on that list that would make you fall in love with the guy,” Brooke says.
“What?”
“You said you don’t want to open yourself up to anyone, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But as your friend, I agree—you do need to get out and have some fun. So what you do is take your ‘must have’ list and cross out the things that would make you fall in love. For example, you can find a guy who isn’t all that ambitious, which would be a turnoff to you, right?” Brooke asks.
“Right, I’ve worked too hard to put my life back together to be with a ‘do-nothing’ guy,” I say, brows knitted, curious where she’s going with this.
“This same guy can be sweet, lay pipe like a god, but also be a bit predictable or not as attentive. That would make him a good rebound…that would make him a non-negotiable.”
“Non-negotiable?” Ros asks.
Marie finishes my scrub down and pumice treatment then moves back to Ros to use a pumice stone on her feet.
“Yes, he will have just enough to keep you interested, but your heart is protected. You’ll never fall for him completely because he’ll also have qualities you find unattractive.” Brooke looks back and forth between Ros and me.
“See what I mean?”
“I guess, in theory, it makes sense,” Ros says.
I sit quietly by myself and wonder about her crazy ass idea.
I can see her point. If….
“Okay, so what you’re saying is, if I wanted a rebound to avoid the possibility of catching feelings, I would need to find someone appealing but not perfect.”
“Exactly, it will be your break from dating. You could be like Beyoncé in “If I were a boy”, stay completely detached, but still enjoy every second,” Brooke says as Marie moves over to begin her pedicure.
“This just sounds bad,” Marie pipes in, “like mean… almost.”
“Guys do it all the time. There is no way those men get emotionally attached to all the women they juggle. I’m not telling her to play with anyone’s head, I’m just saying if she comes across a guy who doesn’t want anything serious this is how she protects herself from falling for him.”
The room gets quiet while we all digest her words. I don’t know what to think about her theory. I guess she’s right, though—guys always seem to find a way to keep their emotions separate.
Sean was just so perfect, though. He worked hard, graduated from college early, and now works for a very successful marketing firm. Add that to everything on my must-have list, and he is one tough act to follow, rebound or not.
We’re all still sitting in silence when the doorbell rings. Marie goes to answer it for us since she’s the only one with dry feet.
“Hey, Kesha,” Marie says as she steps back to let her in.
“Well, don’t you look like yesterday,” Ros teases.
“Haha, walk of shame much?” Brooke adds.
Kesha collapses on the empty love seat, looking exhausted, and begins taking her shoes off.
“So worth it! If y’all had the night I had, you would be proud to look like yesterday,” Kesha says, beaming.
“Oh really, so ol’ boy was that good, huh?”
“Lord, yes! I’m surprised my legs still work!”
We all laugh.
I’m surprised to feel a pang of jealousy hit me. Kesha’s got “Just fucked” written all over her face, and I haven’t missed that feeling until right now. I guess I really have been lonely.
“So what are we doing tonight?” Kesha asks.
“I’m supposed to be meeting up with Kevin tonight,” Ros says.
“And I have a date with Caleb,” Brooke says.
“Caleb? You mean green eyes from last night, Caleb?” Kesha asks, grinning.
“Yes,” Brooke smiles.
“Damn, girl, y’all met like twelve hours ago; not wasting time, huh?”
“It was more than twelve hours! He said he wanted to see me again, so we’re meeting up at a party,” Brooke responds.
Kesha’s eyes narrow. “What kind of party?” Looks like her best friend senses are tingling.
“It’s a party at his cousin’s house,” Brooke says, defensively.
“Hell no! I’m going too; you are not going to some random party with some random guy you just met, by yourself,” Kesha almost yells.
“Fine,” Brooke says.
“Fine.”
Ros and I look back and forth between the girls.
Hell no, I wouldn’t let Ros do that mess either, sounds like a gang-rape hazard.
Eventually, Marie finishes our feet and nails, and everyone leaves. Ros and I are sitting on my bed admiring Marie’s work while we’re eating double fudge ice cream.
“She did a pretty good job; she should pass her mid-term no problem,” I say.
“Yeah, thank God she didn’t get hair rinses,” Ros says with a laugh.
I shake my head.
“Tell the truth, you had fun last night, didn’t you?” Ros says, still smiling.
“Yeah,” I say, meeting her gaze, “why are you acting like we don’t hang out there all the time?”
“Well, recently we haven’t been, plus when we did go, you never let loose like you did last night. You actually had more than one drink, and you danced. Usually, you’d stay stuck in the booth next to Sean the Bore.”
I laugh, “He wasn’t that bad.”
“Mr. Suit and Tie. I mean, I get he’s a little older than us, but how many twenty-four-year-olds do you know who dresses the way he does?”
“Shut up,” I say, throwing a pillow at her, and we both crack up laughing.
“So when do you take your mid-terms?” Ros asks, noticing my book bag sitting on the floor in the corner of my room.
“Two on Wednesday and two on Friday, so I have a few days to cram, but I’m doing pretty well this semester. I think I’ll be fine. What about you?”
“Same, but one on Wednesday and three on Friday,” Ros says as her phone starts to ring.
“I’ll be back, it’s Kevin.”
Ros and Kevin have been together since ninth grade; they’ve broken up and gotten back together over a half dozen times. I guess now they’re in what some people call an “open relationship” because they say they are too young to be so serious. I’ve never understood that, but I’m the nut who got married at eighteen. I mean, it works for some but in my case...
I fluff my pillows and lean back onto my headboard.
This room really needs to be cleaned. My dresser is covered with scattered papers from school, my nightstand and desk both have books and cups all over them and where did that cereal box come from? I know I’ve been depressed, but I didn’t realize I was this bad off.
Pushing myself off the bed I walk into the kitchen to grab a trash bag.
“New Liz,” I sigh.
I can’t be New Liz with Old Liz’s depressing ass room.
Grabbing my iPad and speakers, I hit play on an old workout playlist and with the bit of energy I have left along with a lot of motivation, I begin the process of cleaning Old Liz’s room. I even make my bed.
About an hour later, my room is clean; I fall back onto the bed completely spent. Ros has already gone for the night to be with Kevin, she seemed proud that I was cleaning my room and making an attempt to “Shed the Old Liz” as she likes to say.
A huge yawn escapes my lips, and I grab my phone to see what time it is.
1 NEW TEXT MESSAGE
UNKNOWN NUMBER
Unknown: Hey. It’s Chris, What’s up?
Freezing momentarily, my eyes widen with surprise, I almost forgot I gave him my number. I mean, I know why I did… kind of. The things he said, er… well, the way he said them, ‘I know what I want.’ The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice when he said that made a sensation roll through my body that I’ve never felt before. Sean never spoke to me with such seduction. It felt amazing… and confusing. I feel like I’m cheating on Sean, which is insane, since I haven’t talked to him in over a month, and he dumped me. I’ve lost it.
I need to tell him about my divorce. I just have to pull up my big girl panties and do it already.
Pulling up Sean’s contact for the third time today, I text him.
Me: Hey, Sean. It’s been a while. I hope you’re doing well. I have some great news, my case went through today. I’m officially divorced.
I pause for a minute, take a few deep breaths, and hit send before I can talk myself out of it. My phone shows message DELIVERED at 8:39 p.m., and I immediately start to panic, wishing I could unsend it.
Maybe I should’ve called instead. SHIT.
Staring at the phone, I wait, and at 8:42 p.m. the message goes from DELIVERED to READ.
Shit, shit, shit. He read it.
My heart is beating so hard, I worry my ribs may shatter. I try to slow it down by taking deep breaths.
I continue to stare at my message, afraid to blink as if his reply will appear and then disappear before I read it.
I wait…
And wait…
And nothing.
I look up at the time, it has been almost fifteen minutes of me staring at my own fucking message, and Sean still hasn’t responded. Finally, I drop my phone and fall back onto my pillow. I’m staring at the ceiling and for some reason, I cover my ears as I feel that all too familiar burn start behind my eyes. He’s not going to respond. He doesn’t fucking care.
Tears flow from my eyes, the same ‘fuck you’ tears I cursed yesterday, the big ones I told myself I was done with. The tears come hard and fast and I turn my face into my pillow and sob, clutching my stomach.
What the hell man? This is why he gave up on us, this was what he wanted. I finally get it done, and he ignores me.
“FUCK HIM!” I yell, and it echoes through my empty apartment.
I start taking deep breaths to calm myself, I wipe my eyes until I feel the tears slow. Grabbing my phone, I bypass the unlock screen, and still on display is my ignored text.
“FUCK YOU!” I yell at the phone, hoping Sean can somehow hear it.
Through my tears, I pull up Chris’ text and respond.
ME: Hey, cutie, want to hang out?
I hit send.