Chapter 7
Riley
R iles, he called me Riles, and I liked the way it sounded in the deep timbre of his voice. Very few people call me Riles. Actually, only Chloe and my mother. God, I miss her. After she died, I only allowed Chloe to call me that, and she knows the importance of it, even though we never spoke about it. I typically bite someone’s head off for using that nickname, and a week ago, I might have bitten Finn’s head off, but today, I didn’t, and I don’t quite know what to do with that.
My head is all over the place, and recently, I’ve been feeling like I should open up more to Chloe. I am getting a bit tired of holding everything in and isolating myself. The isolation can only go so far before I disappear completely, and although some days I feel like that may be what I want, I know deep down, it’s not. I want to thrive; I just don’t know how.
So, I take a deep breath and knock on my best friend’s door and prepare to tell her what I’ve been feeling. It feels like an eternity before she actually answers, and instead of starting with the eloquent speech I prepared in my head, I just blurt out, “I let him call me Riles.”
Her eyes widen, and even though she knows who I’m talking about, she asks, anyway, “You let who call you Riles?”
I give her a knowing look and roll my eyes. “You know who I’m talking about, Chloe. Finn. I let Finn call me Riles. He has been coming in to pick up orders for the apartment project, and he’s different than when I first met him. He seems like he’s dropping the cocky, smooth guy act and is just having normal conversations with me now.”
She stares at me for a moment before speaking. “Riles, do you think that maybe you like him?”
“Like him? I don’t even know him. Our longest interaction has been about five minutes. We haven’t talked about anything but his orders, and…”
“And what, Riles?”
I answer, murmuring under my breath, “My design boards.”
Her eyes widen once again. “You let him see your designs? You barely even let me see your designs, which is offensive by the way, because they are amazing and I need inspiration. I don’t have the eye for design that you do.”
“I didn’t ‘let’ him see them. I was in my own world at work and he walked in and I didn’t hear him, and he saw them.”
Chloe has the slightest tilt of her mouth in a knowing smile. “What did he have to say about them?”
It’s hard for me to look at her when I respond, “He liked them.”
“Well, what did he say?”
“He said that they were so good that he thinks I should design on the side. That there is definitely a market for it, since we are far from the city, or that I should ask about offering it as a service at the store.”
Now she is smiling at me like a fiend. “Riley, that is an amazing idea—all of it—and you really have the talent for it. Even if you don’t see it, others do, and I hope, one day, that can be enough for you to take a leap and believe in yourself. I’m here to help in any way I can.”
Once again, I can’t quite make eye contact with her because I don’t take compliments well, even from my amazing best friend. I really do need to lean on her more. “Thanks, Chloe. I love you so much for believing in me, but I’m not quite sure that I’m there yet.”
“Well, I’m here whenever you need.” She looks at me for a moment before continuing, “What else has you down, Riles? I can see in your face something else is bothering you.”
I contemplate for a minute how I’m going to answer. I would typically say I was fine and deflect into something else to get the heat off of me. But I want to be more open with her. That I want to lean on her more and try to get myself out of this hole, and who is better to help me than my always happy best friend?
“Well, if I’m being honest, I’m feeling really isolated, and I know that it’s self-inflicted, but I don’t want to be that way anymore.”
She’s staring at me like, if she says the wrong thing, I might spook like a deer alone in the woods.
“Riley, like I said before, you know that I’m always here for you, no matter what. If I’m being honest, I’ve been worried about you, but I didn’t want to upset you by bringing it up. I’ve just been hoping that you would reach out a hand if you needed it. And I’m so glad that you did.”
“Thanks, Chloe. It’s really hard for me, so thank you for being someone who doesn’t judge me for my quirks. I know I don’t say it out loud, but I really don’t know what I would do without you.”
She claps her hands and smiles wide. “So, girls’ night?”
My eyes widen. “What exactly do you mean by girls’ night?”
“Nothing crazy. Let’s just get dressed up and go out for one drink—just one—and if you absolutely hate it, we can come back to my apartment, put on our jammies, and watch Pride and Prejudice .”
It takes me a few beats to decide. This is a little more than I had anticipated, but you know what they say: go big or go home. “Okay, let’s do it. But one drink. One.”
“Done! Now let’s get ready.”
“Now?!”
“Well, there’s no time like the present!”
I nervously chew on my lip. “Okay, let’s do it, but I’ll need to stop at home to get some clothes.”
“Nonsense. You’ll just borrow something of mine.”
My eyes widen at her suggestion, and now I’m looking at her like she’s sprouted a second head. Does she not realize that she is like a supermodel, and I’m, well, not? Where Chloe is tall and slender, I am short and curvy. I hate myself for the thoughts, but it’s also why I have such a hard time reaching out to her and really opening up in our friendship. The nasty voice in my head tells me how Chloe is so much better than me in every way.
Where Chloe is all smiles and outgoing personality, I am a scowling hermit who most people turn the other way from. Where she has a perfect complexion, my face is red and splotchy no matter what I do, especially when that bitch Aunt Flo comes to visit. Where she has long luscious locks, I have a short bob that makes me look like a boy if I’m not wearing any makeup. She carries herself with confidence and grace, and I walk with my head down, hoping no one will notice me.
Of course, it’s not her fault, and fault isn’t even the right word. It’s my own messed up self talk that I allow to get in my head and play the comparison game. I know my douchebag father is partly to blame, but just like becoming a recluse, the way that I look at relationships has to change. I cannot go through life isolated and alone because I’m so paralyzed by not feeling good enough.
If I’m honest, that’s what it really comes down to. Not being enough. Not good enough to be a designer, not good enough for a healthy relationship, not good enough to be worthy of the amazing friendship that Chloe has graced me with since we were little. So, I take a deep breath, put a smile on my face, and let her play dress up with me and try not to die inside.
When we are all done getting dressed, I stare in the mirror, kind of amazed. I don’t absolutely hate what I see. Chloe steps behind me in the mirror and places her hands on my shoulders.
“Riles, you look hot.”
I’m about to object, but then I really take a good look at myself. We chose a tight black dress that ends just above the knee. I’m sure it is meant to be shorter, and on Chloe it is, but on me, it’s actually the perfect length that I feel comfortable in. The dress is strapless, but we layered it with a denim jacket, since the spring chill is still in the air. It’s paired with a low chunky heel that I can actually walk in without looking like a newborn calf. Chloe put the tiniest bit of makeup on me, just to accentuate my features and conceal a bit of the redness on my face. She also put some soft waves in my hair, which I’ve never done before, and I actually like it.
“I don’t know if I would go as far as hot, but I don’t totally hate it.”
She gives me a bit of a solemn look and squeezes my shoulders while looking into my eyes in the mirror. “Riley, I can’t wait for the day you see what we all see, and I hope it’s sooner rather than later. Because what everyone else sees is incredible, and you’ve lived way too long tearing yourself down.”
Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. How could she possibly know what goes on in my head? I thought I hid it so well. Always acting so aloof, like I am fine. I just recently told her I was struggling. Could she really tell I haven’t been okay for far longer than I’ve let on?
“Thanks, Chloe. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Riles. Now let’s go stir up some trouble.”
Oh, great, what did I get myself into? We’re just going for one drink and that’s it. Just two girlfriends getting a drink. What could possibly go wrong?