8. Cassie
8
CASSIE
I walked out of my room and found Audrey scrubbing the carpet with a toothbrush.
Audrey glanced up from the floor, and with a pointed look at me, she said, “Don’t ask!” She resumed her violent scrubbing as she let out her frustration on the mess she was cleaning.
I snickered, making my way to the fridge to grab a yogurt. “I told you not to take that cat in.”
“Shut it!” Audrey groaned. “Did you follow up with the apprenticeship on the Upper East Side?”
While waitressing paid the bills, art was therapy for me. Over the years, I had applied to be an apprentice at different art studios all over the city. Most of them didn’t want someone so inexperienced and the rest hadn’t even bothered to respond.
“They passed,” I muttered, peeling the wrapper off the yogurt. “Again.” I shoveled the four spoonfuls of yogurt into my mouth, tossed the empty container in the recycling bin, and rinsed my spoon.
“Your big break will come. You need to think more positively. Did you sage yourself last night?” Audrey pondered, getting off the floor, dusting off her knees, and making her way to Oreo, who was sitting on the couch.
“Oreo, you’re an asshole,” I spat, grabbing my portfolio and travel bag and draping it over my shoulder. Now I was talking to cats.
“Don’t you dare speak of my baby like that,” Audrey said in a whiny voice, holding him close to her chest while she rocked him.
“I’ve gotta get out of here before I catch your crazy.” I laughed and made a beeline for the front door.
I heard Audrey call down the hall, “Put some lipstick on for Aiden.”
I was out of breath by the time I walked up to my table. Once I’d set my bags down, I started to think of the layout I would use to display my work this time.
The street fair in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn happened every Saturday if the weather permitted. I’d been retaining a booth there for about five months. I was trying to sell my art, and I’d even made a few friends so far. Being an unknown artist, all of my art was affordable and only gave me a little bit of pocket change, but I relished every sale.
As I finished rearranging the pieces, I realized I forgot to sign my name on one of the paintings. Grabbing a Sharpie from my bag, I scribbled C. Wright on it and moved to find a small easel. Instead of one of my regular muses, I’d drawn a picture of my mama. Or what little I remembered of her.
“Cassie?” a voice called from behind me. I spun and was met with a glowing smile. “How are you?”
“Hi, Aiden. I’m okay. How was the rest of your week?” I cringed, remembering that I’d forgotten to text him back the other night after the whole Matthew debacle. “I’m sorry I never got back to you. Work got crazy, and … I actually got fired.”
I looked down in embarrassment. While Aiden didn’t have a “cushy” job like some, he was hardworking and understood the hardships that came with trying to make ends meet. I hoped he wouldn’t judge me.
“Fired? Oh no, I’m so sorry.” Aiden grabbed my bicep, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “Can I take you to dinner next week sometime? To cheer you up? I had a lot of fun last time.”
I hesitated for a split second before I nodded. “Yes, I’d love that. Just not at Sonny's.” I laughed, trying to flirt and make light of my recent unemployment.
Aiden chuckled and walked to the adjoining table that housed his art. He was an aspiring artist as well, but he specialized in sculpture. We’d met at the flea market a few months ago and had bonded over a haggling couple who called our art, “overpriced garbage.” After the couple walked off, not buying anything, we got to talking. I shared with him how I had been waitressing in Manhattan, but I still hoped to one day be able to do something with my art. His daytime job was equally as unexciting. He worked as an assistant manager of a popular grocery store chain, but he told me it beat being a starving artist. We’d hung out a few times after that, including having dinners in the city on our nights off.
“There’s actually this great restaurant, Beau’s, opening in the village,” Aiden offered, coming back to my table, not noticing how uneasy I became at the mention of the name.
“Excuse me, how much is this?” an older woman with a cane asked, waving around one of my sketches.
“Ten dollars.”
“For this?” The woman scoffed, lifting the piece up. “Junk.” She threw my art on the table and moved to the next booth.
Aiden and I exchanged a look. “Don’t let her get you down,” he whispered, low enough for only me to hear.
“Hello, anybody work here?”
We spun to see somebody waving around Aiden’s sculpture. “Gotta go,” he said breathlessly, jogging toward his booth.
Watching Aiden be charming and welcoming to the people who approached his booth gave me a sliver of hope. He looked over at me periodically and flashed me a brilliant smile each time. It made me feel happy, so why was I stuck thinking about a particular smirk instead?
While nobody would ever know my history as well as him , maybe that was why it was called history. It should stay buried in the past.
“Come on, Cassie. Please let me drive you home. It’s getting chilly out, and you live all the way in Manhattan,” Aiden pleaded.
I shook my head for the second time, declining his offer. I hated driving and riding in cars, ever since him . Every time I had to take a taxi somewhere, I had flashbacks of him buying Beau’s truck and then our disastrous last ride together. With the recent news of Beau’s passing, the thought of getting into a car made me even sadder.
So many mundane things seemed so heavy for me. The trauma of my childhood and youth never left me. I had many fears develop, and sometimes new ones popped up when I least expected them.
“Aiden, thank you, but no. I have to stop at a few places before I head home. Audrey is working late, so this is my opportunity to get things done. You know how she can be.” I gave him a half-hearted smile. It was partly a lie. I had no clue what shift Audrey was working, but I did have something I wanted to take care of before I lost my nerve.
“Fine. But can I still take you to dinner Wednesday night?” Aiden reasoned, playing with his car keys.
I shuffled my feet and looked down, not because I didn’t want to go on another date with Aiden—I definitely wanted to—but it was a question of whether or not I could. Our courtship had been ramping up over the past few weeks, and I knew the issue of sex would be on the horizon soon. I just hoped I would be ready this time.
Throughout the years, I had tried to move on. Although it took me time to work up to dating, I did try. I had agreed to many dates. They would make plans only for me to cancel at the last minute due to cold feet. There was also one time I ran out of a restaurant because it had a Velveteen Rabbit quote hanging on the wall. After that, I’d taken a break for a while before trying again.
I even went as far as listening to Audrey on my twenty-fifth birthday when she told me to give Jerry, the bartender, my number. This was in between shots of tequila, and I was impressed that he didn’t mind the loopy conversation I managed as a result of the alcohol running through my veins. He was probably used to it. He said my shyness and rambling nature were “endearing.”
Audrey was pretty proud of herself when we continued to date after the innocent flirting at my birthday celebration. In fact, we dated on and off all the way from my birthday in August until New Year’s.
During our brief romance, Jerry slowly opened my world and heart again. Jerry was funny, almost goofy. He made me laugh, and it had been so long since I had done that.
I tried to push thoughts of Matthew out of my head as we kissed for the first time. I tried not to flinch when he would touch me, even though the caresses were too reminiscent of the ones I used to get from the boy who I had cuddled with every night for years. I forced myself to take the initiative to escalate our physical relationship to third base by November. When the New Year rolled around, we took the next step, but something felt off. For weeks after, I couldn’t help but feel like I was cheating on him. Ultimately, when push came to shove, I couldn’t get Matthew and the metaphorical mark he had left on me out of my mind.
“Cassie!” Aiden waved his hand in front of my face. “Earth to Cassie.”
My eyes widened as I shook myself out of my reflection on the past. I had to stop doing that, but being in the moment was hard.
This season of my life felt like two pages were stuck together. My past and my future glued to one another with no space for the here and now. However, there was no avoiding the present, not when it stood in front of me, demanding my attention.
“Sure,” I murmured softly, so softly Aiden couldn’t make out what I’d said. “Sure,” I repeated louder.
Aiden grabbed my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.” He leaned in to kiss me on the lips, but I turned my face at the last second. When Aiden pulled back and stared at me with a questioning look, I glanced around as if to blame my refusal on a dislike of public displays of affection.
As if that was my only hindrance.
I jumped as I heard rustling behind me. I reached into my pocket, grabbing the pepper spray that Audrey had given me when I’d first moved in. She insisted that there were too many weirdos in New York for me to be unprepared and unprotected. I made a move to walk back toward the train station when something, or rather someone, grabbed my arm.
“Ahh,” I yelled out, trying to straighten the nozzle on the can of pepper spray.
The streetlight shone brightly above me, and I got a closer look at my would-be assailant.
“Charlie!” I shouted, hitting the arm of the girl who was once my sister, and moved to hug her.
“Ow, god, you really have gotten violent!” Charlie remarked, smirking as we embraced. Always so damned smug.
“Oh my goodness. How are you?” I squeezed her before releasing her from my hold. I assessed how much older she looked from the last time I’d seen her, but at the same time, there was a familiarity there. She was still my favorite pain in the ass. “What are you doing here alone so late at night?”
“I’m just dandy. And it’s not that late, Mom. Besides, I’m not alone. I’m hanging with my … friend, Derek Anderson.” Charlie looked over her shoulder, and I followed her gaze, spotting an older guy with a five o’clock shadow and a scowl on his face standing a few feet away. He looked about my age, maybe a year or two younger.
“Friend, huh?” I raised my eyebrows and shook my head, pulling crazy Charlie into my arms again. “Oh and what did you mean when you said I ‘really have gotten violent’?”
Charlie shuffled her feet and grimaced. “Oh you know, nothing! You just were never violent before.” Charlie chewed on her bottom lip.
I pursed my lips, not buying Charlie’s explanation. “Charlotte! I can smell bullshit from a mile away. Don’t try to lie to me.”
“Well, about that. Matthew might have let it slip that you slapped him at your big reunion fiasco at that fancy restaurant,” Charlie blurted, smiling nervously, waiting for my reaction.
I was stunned. I hadn’t realized that Charlie and Matthew had kept in contact and were close enough where he would share details of our reunion with her. I was surprised he was speaking about me at all. Let alone venting about the slap.
It was my turn to be embarrassed. “Not one of my finest moments,” I said sheepishly, chewing on my fingernails as I glanced back at Derek, who didn’t look happy about us speaking.
“Matthew deserved it. I’m totally Team Cassie, babe,” Charlie said flippantly, following my gaze. “Just one more minute, dollface!” Charlie shouted back to her “friend.”
“Is he your boy—” I started but was quickly cut off.
“I get why you ran away back then. But … I do think you two need to work your shit out. He’s miserable without you, and so am I for that matter. You know you left me too, woman,” Charlie chastised.
I cringed. I had left Charlie behind. At the time, I had been so focused on getting as far away from Matthew and his family as possible that I hadn’t stopped to think about everything else I’d be leaving. The universe obviously wanted me to have the chance for closure of all sorts. “I’m here now.” I touched Charlie’s forearm, causing her to look at me. There was sadness in her eyes despite the joking manner in which she had been speaking.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the flowers I’d purchased at the corner stand before I hopped on the train.
“Who are the flowers for?” Charlie asked, always so nosey.
“Beau.” I said solemnly, “I came here to say goodbye, in my own way.” I made my way farther into the grassy field under the overpass. I could see him so clearly, standing there with Rocky.
I crouched down and laid the bouquet on the ground, an empty feeling blooming in my chest making me realize I could never have anticipated what it felt like to come here. I hadn’t known Beau all that well, but he had saved me from slipping on some ice when I was sixteen. It was such a dark time in my life. Matthew had left me alone a lot, busy with his other life, and it felt like the only time we saw each other was when I would accompany him to parties.
Despite his struggles, and being “home-challenged,” Beau was kind. He had been a good friend to me, and I had fond memories of both him and Rocky. In him, I had found a kindred spirit because I knew what it felt like to be without a home.
“He mentions him all the time,” Charlie offered.
I ignored it, not wanting to talk about Matthew.
“We should go out. Maybe next week?” Charlie suggested, smiling softly. “I can meet you in the city? Where do you live?”
I took a deep breath. If I told Charlie where I lived, there was the chance Charlie may relay that information to Matthew, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. I fiddled with the strap of my bag as I tried to come up with a way to avoid giving away too much of my personal information.
“Or how about we go to an art exhibit or something?” Charlie offered.
“Sure. That would be great. Does next Saturday work?” I didn’t have anywhere to be, being unemployed and all.
Charlie nodded and started walking backward to Derek before she ran back to hug me. “I really did miss you!” She squeezed me tightly. “Oh wait, do you have a phone?”
I nodded, pulling out my cell phone. “What’s your number?”
Charlie rattled off her number and I told her I’d text her with the details of this art show I’d been wanting to check out, so that she’d have my number as well. We said our goodbyes, and Charlie took off with her “friend” into the night.
I shook my head and chuckled when I realized that Matthew probably had no idea about this little “companion” Charlie had. He had always been overprotective of Charlie, so there was no way he would have allowed her to continue to hang out with Derek. What I wouldn’t give to see his face when he did find out.
Walking to the train station, distant memories from my childhood hit me like a ton of bricks as I walked through my old stomping grounds. Passing all the places we had frequented, I allowed the scenes to play out in my head like an old movie reel. The spot where we had our first kiss. It was now condos but still I could picture it as it once was. Where I face-planted when he tried to teach me how to skateboard. Where we had our first real make out session. Where we would go on “dates.” Where I loved him so. A lifetime of history and nothing to show for it. Nothing but pain and sorrow.