Chapter 7
I hug my yoga mat close to my chest as we walk down the sidewalk towards the paid parking lot.
“Oopsie.” I hear Caroline say behind me. “Tyler,” she says in a loud whisper. When I turn, she motions for me to come towards her. “You have a tear in your leggings. I can see your panties.” She says softly.
I sigh. Of course, I do. Damn, these fake ass leggings couldn’t even last for one wear. Just one more thing to ruin my day. I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and pull a long sleeve shirt from my gym bag, before tying it around my waist.
“You know, there’s a Lululemon just around the corner,” Mandy says. “You should go see if they will replace them. They look like you’ve never even worn them.”
“Oh” I pause, trying to figure out how to get myself out of this. “It’s not a big deal.” I say, in an attempt to brush it off.
“Mandy’s right.” Caroline says, “Those are way too expensive to fall apart like that. Let’s just go right now.”
SHIT. “Oh no, it’s okay. I’ll go another time.” I wave them off.
Mandy side eyes Caroline and I see it. “Isn’t that kind of out of the way for you? You should really just go now.” She says, pulling my arm, trying to lead me around the corner of the sidewalk. “If you are afraid to ask them, I will. They know me there.”
I put my hands down at my sides and take a deep breath. “I really appreciate it, but I need to get home.”
“It’ll only take a second.” Mandy says with her arms crossed.
Caroline smiles softly, “Come on, you are being kind of silly.”
I let out a deep sigh. So much for the one thing that I thought would make me fit in with them. “They’re not real, okay?” I look back and forth at the two horrified women as I make my confession. It’s almost as though I told them I’m an alien. “My mom bought them for me from some wholesale group for a Christmas gift. I have never been in a Lululemon in my life and don’t really plan to. The fanciest store I shop at is Target, and I’m okay with that.”
“Oh, okay,” says Caroline, obviously at a loss for words.
“I knew it.” Mandy mutters.
Okay, that’s all I can take for one day.
“Thank you both for your invite today.” I say, clapping my hands together a little too loudly and causing even myself to startle. “But I really need to get going.” Without another word, I turn and bolt towards the crosswalk, taking advantage of the blinking WALK signal. Don’t cry. I beg myself. All I have to do is make it to the safety of my car and then I will be free to have the breakdown I fully deserve after this terrible day.
I enter the parking lot and stop short when I spy Caroline’s dark gray Wagoneer, parked right next to my “shitty” Honda.
“And the hits keep on coming.” I mumble under my breath.
I grab the door handle and climb inside, immediately starting the engine. My tears burn as they brim in my eyes.
Don’t cry, at least not until they’re gone. I beg myself. I scroll through my phone, trying to look busy while I wait for them to get in their cars and drive away. In reality, I am just looking for the nearest Sonic. Screw hot yoga and screw nasty ass chunky green smoothies. That’s not me and it’s not who I’ll ever be. I’d rather live the rest of my life alone in this town than try to force myself to be someone I’m not.
What I need right now is a greasy breakfast burrito and a Diet Dr. Pepper with a lime wedge. I may live in the city now, but I’m not ashamed to admit that I find a familiar comfort in a Route 44 soda that nothing else in this world can provide. I can’t explain it. It just tastes like home.
Just as my yoga companions drive away in their overpriced vehicles, my car makes a dinging sound, indicating that something is wrong and my day is about to get even worse than it already was.
Perfect. My shitty Honda is going to live up to its name today.
I check the display and find that I have a flat tire. Since the coast is clear, I climb back out of the car and quickly discover the culprit. My passenger side back tire looks like it’s melting into a puddle on the pavement. Fantastic.
The tears I have been willing to stay inside my body have no other choice than to race down my face. Clutching my phone, I scroll to Elliott’s name and press the call icon. He answers on the second ring.
“Hey. What’s up?” He asks. I can hear typing in the background. He’s still at work.
I sniffle. “Elliott, I’m having the worst day of my life.” I take a breath. “I went out with Caroline and Mandy today. First, I nearly passed out at yoga. Then, I was peer pressured into drinking some nasty green smoothie. After that, my fake leggings ripped and my ass was showing to the entire world, for who knows how long. Now my shitty Honda, which I didn’t even know was shitty until today, has a flat tire in a parking lot downtown.” My words fly from my mouth without taking a breath.
I’m met with dead silence on the other end, no typing, no voices in the background.
“Elliott, are you there?” I ask, sniffling again.
I hear the typing commence. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Did you have me on mute?” I ask, my face glowing red with anger.
“Yeah, sorry. Greg stopped by to ask me something.” He pauses, “Sounds like a terrible day, babe. I’m sorry.”
I let out a loud sigh. “I know you are working, but is there any chance you can come help me change my tire?”
Silence again.
“Hello?”
“You pay for Roadside Assistance through your insurance, right? Why don’t you just use that?” He answers, still clearly sounding distracted.
“Please tell me you are kidding right now.”
“I mean, I’m just in the middle of work and…”
I interrupt before he can continue. “So instead of taking a break to drive ten minutes to come help me, you want me to call Triple A and then possibly wait for hours for someone to come help me?”
“Well…” He trails off.
“Whatever.” I huff. “Nevermind. I’ll figure it out.” I end the call and let out a loud groan. How can he be so smart and such a freaking idiot?
I shake my head in disgust and call the one person I can always rely on to save the day.
“Hello?” He answers the phone on the second ring.
“Dad. I have a flat tire. Can you walk me through changing it over the phone?”
His soft chuckle rattles through the phone. “Is this one of those internet pranks?”
“No.” I sigh. “I’m stranded in downtown Oklahoma City with a flat.”
“Where’s Elliott?”
“Working.” I mumble in response.
“Oh. Too busy again. That sounds about right.” He sneers. “Tyler, what are you doing?”
“I’m sitting in my car in a parking lot having a mental breakdown?” I supply, trying to understand what he is getting at.
“No, with him. What are you doing?” He repeats. “Tyler, I love you and I have tried to be supportive, but can’t you tell that this is wrong?”
“Because he can’t come change a tire for me?” I sigh. I know exactly what he is getting at. I am just too emotionally exhausted to hash this out right now.
“No, because if he wanted to make you a priority, he would. He would have been there for the funeral. He wouldn’t leave you stranded to fend for yourself downtown with a flat tire. You deserve better than this, and it kills me to see you settle for less than you deserve.”
Another tear escapes through my eyelashes. He’s right, but I can’t think about it right now. I just need to handle what’s in front of me. There is no way I’m going to discuss the current state of my relationship with my dad right now. Especially when I’m not even sure what the current state is.
“Dad, can you please help me?” I ask, putting an earbud in my ear. I need to focus on the task at hand before I deal with the rest of the shit show my life has become.
“Of course, open your trunk.”