Cindy grumbled in between yawns as she drove us back to her house. She asked what happened, if me and Micah got in a fight, or if I was sick. I didn’t want to answer her. The knot was already starting to form in the pit of my stomach, knowing I made a mistake. Why would I leave? I genuinely don’t think anything would happen between Micah and Lana, but there’s a tiny grain of doubt. I could say that Tim cheated on me, so why wouldn’t Micah? But that isn’t it.

I left our place. As much as I stay over, that’s my room. Our room. Then Lana shows up, and I just walk out, acting like I shouldn’t be there. She’s the one who shouldn’t be there. But even the little indignation that rattles around in my mind isn’t enough to quell my insecurities.

I know Lana. We weren’t friends in high school, and I never spoke a word to her while I saw her around my first semester on campus, but I know her. She’s gorgeous. Everything I’m not. And she dated Micah. Micah loved her at one time. She obviously loved him, and in some way, shape, or form, still does. And she had him. First.

“Lana’s in the apartment,” I finally squeak out, as she pulls into her driveway.

“Excuse me?” She parks the car, turning it off.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I answer her, getting out of the car and walking straight to her front door.

She scurries behind me, and I hear her keys jingling in her hand. “Don’t want to talk about it? Tough shit, girl, because we are so talking about it.”

“Cindy, please.” I stare at her front door, while she stands next to me. I’m waiting for her to unlock it, but she continues to stand there, and I can feel her eyes on me. “Can you open the door please?”

“V, why did you leave? What is wrong with you? You have every right to be there right now making her feel uncomfortable, not the other way around.”

“It’s his ex-girlfriend.”

“Exactly. Ex being the main component there. I have half a mind to drag you to the car and take you back.”

“Cindy—”

“No. This is important. You can’t just run off like that. Micah loves you. You should flaunt it in front of that skank, making out with him while she watches. She’s the loser who cheated on him, and now he’s with you. If I were you—”

“But you’re not me.”

“Yes, but if I was—”

“But you’re not!” I scream, finally looking at her. It seems like she wants to say something, but closes her mouth as she sees the tears roll down my cheeks. “Okay? You’re skinny. And petite. And she’s hot and tall and thin and everything I’m not. You want me to tell you why I left? Because I can’t compete with that and I don’t care what you say, because I know Micah isn’t comparing me. I know that, okay? But that doesn’t stop my brain from knowing she’s everything I’ll never be. Oh, and the icing on the cake? She’s slept with him. How am I supposed to suppress all of that crap with her right outside of the room I’m sleeping in?”

She doesn’t say anything. I swallow the lump in my throat, clenching my eyes shut, feeling more tears fall.

By all other accounts, it is a beautiful morning. I feel the warm sunrise on my back, the summer air’s crisp, and I even hear some birds chirping in the trees in her front yard. But I still want to get inside of her house, go directly to her room and throw her blankets over me, blocking out the world.

“Can you just open the door? Please?” I ask, keeping my eyes shut.

I feel her hand run over mine, giving it a squeeze. “Sure.”

There’s a slight tap on my forehead. Squeezing my eyes shut, I brush away whatever’s there, pulling my blankets up higher. I always loved Cindy’s bed. Her parents are both doctors—her mom a pediatrician and her father a cardiologist—and if I knew nothing else, I know they splurged when it came to her bed. The comforter is soft, and her pillows are like clouds. Her sheets feel so soft and silky, and are twelve-hundred thread count. I know because one night when I stayed over, she wouldn’t shut up about it.

I feel another tap, but this time it’s on my cheek. I brush my hand across my face, yawning as I do. Another tap. This one feels like something hits my eyelid.

Cracking my eyes open, I see Cindy sitting in a chair at her desk, her feet kicked up on it, crossed. She reaches into a box and then throws something at me. I shut my eyes, feeling it bounce off of my nose.

“What are you doing?” I ask, opening my eyes once again to see what she threw at me on the comforter. “Is that a Cheerio?”

“Honey nut,” she answers, reaching into the box and grabbing another one.

“Why are you throwing them at me?”

“Two reasons,” she says, throwing a piece of cereal at me again, this one hitting my hair. “One, you’ve been asleep for five hours. It’s noon, so you need to get up.”

“And the second?”

She pauses, taking a deep breath. Closing the cereal box, she looks back at me. “I get it, V. I really do. And I’m not trying to be a bitch here, but I’m still mad at you.” I pull the comforter over my face. “That is your man. You shouldn’t have left, no matter how insecure you feel. He loves you. You know he does.”

“Yeah.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know!” Bringing the blankets back down, my eyes find hers. “I wish I could explain to you exactly how this works, but I can’t. Unless you’ve lived it, then I don’t think you’ll ever get it.”

“Get it? Are you serious? Veronica, I’m five-foot-nothing, one-hundred pounds soaking wet, with breasts guys have to squint to see.”

I giggle. “Yeah, but you got the whole ‘hot Asian’ thing going on.”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started on that. Do you know how annoying it is for people to constantly ask if I’m from China? Not only is it racist, it’s ignorant. I’m half-Korean! And my mom’s not even an immigrant, she was born in Seattle!” I giggle again, this time a little harder. “I’ve got a white dad, but all of my genes seem to come from my mom. I know what it’s like to be insecure about things.”

“But you’re skinny.”

She throws her head back. “You’re never going to get over that, are you?”

“Cindy, it’s just so difficult when it’s been my whole life. I was the chubby girl growing up. We met in seventh grade, but I’ve always been the big girl. They called me roly-poly in third grade.”

“But what about Micah?” She rolls her chair over to the bed, leaning closer. “You told me he never asks about taking your shirt off.”

I giggle, thinking about last night. “I actually wore the babydoll last night.”

“And?”

Pulling the blankets higher, I smile at the memory. “He loved it.”

“You see! He thinks you’re beautiful. Why don’t you believe him?”

“I do believe him. It’s just …”

I take a deep breath. Finally sitting up, the blankets still wrapped around me, I can’t meet her eyes. “When I’m with him, when it’s only us, I believe him. I know he sees me for me and I love it. I love him. But it’s like a light switch. When it’s just us, it’s like there’s no one else. We have our own little world in the dark. Then I have to turn the lights on. I have to get up and head back into the world where I’ve never been pretty enough. I’ve never been skinny enough. There are two worlds that I have to live in, Cindy.

“How am I supposed to deal with that? I can’t just live in the world I have with Micah because as great as that might seem, then I’d just be obsessed with him. But I can’t depend solely on him. I have to live, too. And by living my own life, I have to be in this world. The same place where Tim cheated on me, acted like it was my fault, and said I was too big to ever make a move on. So even when Micah tells me he loves me, I still feel like I’ll never be good enough.”

She’s quiet. I feel the prick of tears, but I force them back. I don’t want to cry again because I know this isn’t anyone’s fault but my own for feeling like this.

Cindy gets out of her chair and comes over to the bed, wrapping her arms around me. “I love you, V. I’ll help you as much as I can to get over this. I will. But you have to be the one to commit. I can say all of the positive things in the world about you, and you can laugh and nod and agree all you want, but in the end, if you don’t truly feel it, then you’re always gonna feel like you’re not good enough for someone. But you are.”

“I know.”

“No. You don’t.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, Dr. Cindy.”

“Hey, you know I’m going to school for family psychology.”

“Yeah. You gonna be my shrink?”

She pulls back to look at me, but still keeps her arms around me. “Yeah. You’ll be my first patient. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a discount.”