Inhale, Exhale (8 page)

As I sat down at my desk and pulled on my headset Monday morning, I smiled. There, front and center in front of my monitor, was a beautiful bouquet of white, yellow, and pink daisies arranged in a green vase shaped like a water pitcher. The fragrance emanated to my nose, and I leaned in to inhale deeply. The card attached was so sweet I almost melted.

J—

Even when you’re not around, you make my world a better place. I missed you this weekend. Don’t stress about the job, you’re great at everything.

Love, Christian

I replaced the card in the little envelope and sat, strumming my fingers on the desk. Christian had bought me flowers exactly three times in our relationship: once on our first date, once after prom when I caught him kissing that slut Abbi Morris, and last year after our blowout fight about his recreational drug use. I wanted to believe this was simply a sweet gesture because he felt bad about missing our weekend together, but I just couldn’t.

I sighed, moving the flowers to the side of the desk so I could see the screen. I shook the feeling off and gave him the benefit of the doubt. He’d given me no reason to doubt his sincerity. I leaned in, inhaling their sweet scent once more. They really were beautiful. Christian was home now, so maybe I’d surprise him and head over later tonight with a homemade dessert. Anything I made was from scratch, and Christian could never get enough. Maybe I’d whip up a strawberry rhubarb pie. My Gamma had taught me to bake several of her award-winning pies and cakes over the years, and Christian was her number one fan.

It was then I noticed the piece of green sea glass propped up against my monitor. I picked it up and rubbed the smooth stone between my fingers, wondering where it had come from. It was beautiful, about the size of a half dollar and smooth all around, as if it had spent years tumbling against the harsh sand at the bottom of the ocean just so I didn’t cut my fingers as I held it. It twinkled as I held it to the light—like looking into a kaleidoscope. Stones like this were rare anymore, unless you bought one made in China from a tourist trap. I knew this one was natural, and very special.

I set it down on the desk next to me, wishing I knew where it came from. As soon as I logged on to my computer, it pinged, letting me know I had an email. It was from Grant.

“Thought about you when I found this on Friday. Hope you had a good weekend. Grant.”

I picked the glass up again smiled, watching as the fissures made it sparkle in the light. It reminded me of Grant’s eyes. They were almost the same color, just like mine. I touched it to my cheek, enjoying its cool touch against my flushed skin.

Suddenly, I dropped it when I saw the flowers out of the corner of my eye. No, I should not be rubbing this stone against my skin imagining it was Grant’s touch. That was wrong. How would I feel if some girl gave Christian a present? I started to throw it in the trash but couldn’t do it. I settled for the back of the desk drawer instead and moved the flowers closer to me. I’d hoped the physical gesture would be repeated in my thoughts and place Grant in the background. That was the right thing to do, right?

After tucking the stone safely away, I pulled out my phone and texted Christian.

Thank U for the beautiful flowers!! Can U meet me 4 lunch? I miss U!

My phone buzzed within a minute.

Christian:
UR Welcome. But no, sry. I’m not even in town.

I groaned.

Me:
Where RU?

Christian:
Jax. Band got a gig. Left 1
^st
thing this morning. We’ll B here all week.

Well, there went my plans for having a romantic night to say thank you.

Me:
What about this weekend?

Christian:
Not sure we’ll B back. I’ll let U know L8R

I sighed and resisted the urge to throw my phone. I knew this gig was important to him, but I also really wanted time alone with him to remind me of how great we were together and how much I loved him. We’d barely seen each other since the summer started.

I sat for a few minutes and realized I was being clingy. This wasn’t his problem. It was mine. After almost four years together, it was silly of me to expect to spend every minute with him. And I couldn’t take it out on him. It wasn’t fair. I texted him back
.

K. Luv U babe. Call me 2nite

I needed to be in charge of my own emotions. I was finished with the “woe is me” whining. We’d been together for almost four years. We were good. We were strong. We could get through a stupid crush that meant nothing.

At lunch that afternoon, I sat in the break room with Temperance and a few other girls from a different department. They were all at least in their mid-to-late twenties. I didn’t know their names, but I’d waved hello every morning as we passed by. I really didn’t feel like eating alone today.

“I still think I’m hung over from Friday,” the shorter redhead started. She stirred her instant soup and laid her head on the table.

“I told you to stop drinking so much, Tonya. I don’t know what you were trying to prove,” the other chided.

“I needed some liquid courage. I thought it was a perfect chance to finally get Grant to notice me.”

My eyes shot up at the mention of his name, and I stopped breathing. Damn it! I had just told myself to knock this off, and not a few hours later I was at it again.

“And how’d that work out for you?” the other girl laughed.

“Ugh, it was terrible. He was moody and sullen all night. Kept going for walks, picking up stupid shells. I asked him if he wanted company and tried to go with him, but he turned me down. Said he needed to be alone.” Tonya sipped some of the broth and sighed.

“You weren’t the only one he turned down. I don’t know what was up with him. He hasn’t gone to one of these things in weeks, finally says yes, and then sulks the whole night. I swear, it was like he had PMS or something. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood tomorrow for bowling.”

I couldn’t keep silent any longer. “Bowling?”

Tonya nodded at me. “Yeah, we have a company team. We play every Wednesday over at Pinned. Get it? You should join us sometime.”

“Yeah, sure,” I agreed, biting the insides of my cheeks trying hard to hide my smile. “Sounds like fun.”

Tonya finished her soup and tossed the cardboard carton in the trash. “Starts at seven, but we usually go at six to get a few drinks first. You’re twenty-one, right?”

I frowned and shook my head. “No, I turn twenty next month.”

Tonya shrugged. “Eh, you can still come. They don’t ID at the door or anything.”

“Great, see you then!” I waved as we headed back to our desks.

For the rest of the afternoon, I paid no attention to actual work and instead convinced myself that bowling with Grant was no big deal. It wasn’t a date, and lots of other people would be there. It was only a company bonding thing. After all, I did have to work with these people for several more months. Might as well get to know them. Right?

Before I left for the afternoon, I opened my drawer and picked up the stone again. I ran my fingers over its smooth, cool surface, turning it round and round to watch it reflect the light. Did he really spend Friday night combing the beach to find this for me? Why would he do that? He knew I had a boyfriend. He knew I was only here for the summer.

I didn’t analyze it anymore, just replaced it safely in the drawer before logging off for the night and heading home.

CHAPTER NINE

I am a pussy. I have officially handed over my boys and slapped on a vagina. My manhood card was traded in for aching ovaries and an incessant need to spit on my thumb and rub dirt off of other people’s faces.

In the last week, it was like my body and mind were on two separate planets. Neither was working with each other anymore. Not since Jillian. My head knew—this girl will mess up everything and suck away everything I worked so hard for with a single bat of her lush eyelashes.

My body, however, could give two shits. All it wanted was to be near her. To touch her. To think about her. My ridiculously stupid hormone-driven body craved her like a drowning man craved air.

I was screwed.

When Tonya begged me to go to that stupid bonfire, I didn’t even let her finish the sentence before my initial thought was no. But then I’d invited Jillian. And even though she said she couldn’t come, I went with the hope she’d change her mind. Yes, I went to a party for the slight probability that I could spend an hour or so with her.

Screwed.

Two beers and an hour later, I’d accepted she wasn’t showing up. But no, I didn’t leave. Leaving would have been the smart thing to do. There was now a riot in my body, battling between sense and desire. Sense didn’t stand a chance, since only one head was allowed to think now. Instead, I took a walk on the beach, hoping the clean, cool air would help clear my head. But the air around me smelled like her. That sweet smell was everywhere and only forced more blood to the lower region of my body, thus denying any rational thoughts to seep through.

Tonya sidled up to me as I walked, high as a kite like most everyone else at this party. I’d overheard her cackling about how she found a new dealer out of the blue earlier in the week. She giggled incessantly, bragging about what a great deal she made—only paying half the cost if she delivered something to the office Monday morning. She’d offered us all some, but I declined. I hadn’t done that shit since high school and didn’t need to spend the evening totally paranoid and then gorge on Doritos and hours-old convenient store hot dogs until I felt like puking.

Now, Tonya was hoping to use the dark deserted beach as an opportunity to hook up, but after my experience earlier in the week, that was not an option. No amount of one-night stands was going to get Jillian out of my head. I shrugged Tonya off and continued alone down the beach when a shiny speck of light reflected off the moon and into the sand.

I bent to investigate, assuming it was a broken beer bottle or some other trash, and was amazed by what I found. The perfect, smooth piece of sea glass was exactly the color of Jillian’s eyes. Such a find was rare, especially in this area, so I wondered if it was real. And if it was, why was the universe constantly throwing reminders of what I couldn’t have in my face? How bad of a person was I in a previous life that I earned this sweet torture? I picked up the glass and put it in my pocket before returning to the party.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I thought about throwing the stone away. I didn’t need reminders of what I couldn’t have, or reminders of how to fail at my dreams. Because fixating on Jillian would do just that. And I couldn’t allow it to happen.

I picked up the glass and padded in bare feet up the two flights to the roof deck. There was a small park across the street, and I was sure if I threw the glass there someone would think they hit the jackpot finding it. Digging the glass out of my pocket, I held it like I would a skipping stone. And held it. And then stared at it. And then walked back down the stairs.

New vagina—one. Me—zero.

I spent Saturday visiting my dad. It had been almost a month since I’d checked in on him, and it would be just the kick in the ass I needed to remind myself that the only real way to long-term happiness was through hard work, not the opposite sex.

“Dad? You up?” I called as I walked through the front door.

I stepped out of my shoes and noted the time. It was barely noon, so most likely Dad was still in bed. He rarely graced the world with his appearance before at least three, after staying up all night watching infomercials and chain smoking.

I went straight into the kitchen and took out the overflowing trash, setting it aside as I grabbed a new empty bag and walked around picking up random fast food wrappers, cigarette butts, and crushed empty cans of Natural Ice. Three full bags later, the house was decent enough to at least sit in. I didn’t, starting on the sink full of moldy dishes instead.

I was throwing out food from the fridge when something caught my eye. It was the foil-wrapped wedding cake topper that they’d been saving forever with a slice of the original cake. I took the topper out and unwrapped it, smoothing the foil out. The plastic piece couldn’t have cost more than twenty bucks, but my mom had loved it. I sighed, thinking of her flitting around this kitchen in her pink apron that said, “I can’t fix stupid, but I can sedate it.”

My mom had worked as a psychiatric nurse and was our family’s breadwinner, allowing us to pay the mortgage and have health insurance. Her salary also kept me from having to visit thrift stores for new school clothes each year. She’d work a ten-hour shift, come home and cook us dinner, help me with my homework, and never complain about how tired she was. She was a saint.

But losing her crippled my dad. He lost the best part of himself, and I doubted if he’d ever be whole again. He had nothing to fall back on because his only passion in life was Mom. He never loved what he did; he did a job for a paycheck and now spent his days lounging in his underwear on his recliner in front of the TV.