6. ShySomething
Chapter 6
Shy or Something
W ith ten minutes left in my shift, my best friend, Hailey, walks inside and sits in a booth to wait. After I clock out, we’ll eat Mexican food and host our book club meeting, just the two of us—we’re too antisocial to ask anyone else to join. We started this book club after high school, and we actually talk about the books we read instead of calling it “book club” as an excuse to drink wine and gossip. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still plenty of that happening, but we have monthly picks and discussions about the books we read beforehand. The majority of the books we choose may be smut, but I think we’ve earned the right to read what we want after years of reading classics in school.
Sure, themes of poverty or power are important, but they aren’t what I want to escape into after being yelled at by hungry customers all day. Poverty is my reality, I don’t need it in my entertainment too. Besides, books provide more than just life lessons and escapism; they are experiences we’d otherwise miss out on. Besides Sam, I’ve had one other serious boyfriend, and have never experienced the passion and intensity described in these books. When your brain won’t shut up and lives in a constant state of anxiety, orgasms are more work than they’re worth anyway.
When I’m reading, I’m not worried about the lighting or if I’m hurting Sam with my weight. I’m not worried about the pain from lack of proper lubrication. I’m not thinking back over my day and wishing I could take back every cringy thing I said. So, instead of having great sex, I just read about it, and I’m fine with this arrangement.
Hailey and I try to meet up at least once a month but, too often, life gets in the way. She graduated last semester and now teaches English at a junior high. Her work day doesn’t technically end until 5, but she’s usually working much later than that, planning lessons, grading, and preparing for the next day.
While Sam was my best friend growing up, he was also friends with the “cool” kids and, before he moved away, those friends of his didn’t bother me. But once he left, I lost my protector—the wolf that kept all the other wolves away. I became fair game to cruel jokes and hurtful remarks. The thing is, I didn’t sit down and take it back then. I gave as well as they did, but that only made me more fun to play with. And I lost every time because I was always outnumbered.
Hailey had just moved to the district when she and I met freshman year of high school. One lunch period during which she was seen eating with me was all it took for her to become another target.
If you stripped away all those years of bullying that we both endured, you’d find hopeful green eyes that look for the positive in any situation. There’d be welcoming arms ready to provide a comforting embrace to anyone in need of a safe space. There’d be a loving, caring person willing to give the shirt off her back to anyone who needed it. Instead, both of us approach everything with caution and the assumption we’ll be bitten with sharp fangs, allowing venom to fill our veins and leave us writhing on the ground in agony.
In the years since we met, her teeth have been straightened by braces and her face has shed the last little bit of baby fat. Otherwise, she still has the same long, perfectly straight black hair and the same freckles dotting her nose.
“Hey, I’m almost off. I just have one more thing to do in the back, then I’ll be ready to go,” I say.
“Good. It’s been a hell of a week. I need a margarita more than I need oxygen right now.” She exhales a heavy breath and I wish I could hug her, but it will have to wait.
“Did I hear margaritas?” Sage asks, coming up behind me. “I figured when you told me that y’all were hanging out, that meant the bookstore and coffee.”
“We‘ll probably do that too,” Hailey says.
“Well, can I come for the margarita part? Brian is at a Bachelor party tonight. And Cori will need alcohol within reach when I discuss something with her.”
“Who’s Brian?” Hailey asks, waggling her eyebrows at her.
“He’s my boyfriend. He’s dreamy and has dimples and plays the drums.”
“Discuss what?” I ask, on high alert. Is it about Mom and Dad? One of our siblings? Is there an issue with the apartment? Did she accidentally destroy one of my favorite books?
“We’ll talk about it when you have a margarita and queso in front of you.” She pats my cheek and walks away. Except alcohol doesn’t help me like it does some people. Liquid courage or calming for some, anxiety-boosting for me, heightening every negative thought or feeling, but taking away my ability to control myself. I only drink it for the taste, as long as it’s fruity.
My heart beats its way through the last of my side work, then I grab my bag and change in the bathroom into a tank top with a cardigan. I head for the door, digging in my purse to turn the sound back up on my phone in case any important calls come through, like, “Your apartment flooded,” or “Mom and Dad’s house is on fire.” Then, I see six missed calls from Sam, and I stop breathing. Six missed calls mean something bad happened. Six missed calls means my life will never be the same.
“Are you okay?” Hailey asks as I approach them, frantically pressing buttons on my phone.
I don’t answer her while I wait for the phone to ring, silently praying everything is okay.
“Cori, I’ve called you a million times,” Sam says upon answering.
My voice shakes. “I was at work, is everything okay?”
But when he responds with his reason for so many calls, I could just kill him for almost giving me a heart attack. “Yeah, everything is fine. I was just wondering when you were going to get here. Nick will probably be here soon and there’s a lot of people I want to introduce you to.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nick’s surprise party.” Only, he says it in the form of a question. “I told you about it a week ago. You’re coming, right? I’ve already told everyone you’re coming.”
“You never told me about a party.” I know he didn’t because the word party has the same effect on my heart as six missed calls.
“Party? I could go for a party right now,” Sage says because she doesn’t need days of mentally preparing for social situations. She’s spontaneous and there isn’t much she’ll say no to.
“Yes, Cori, I did,” he says, slowly, as if I’m a child and his word is to be taken as fact with no evidence to back it up. “A bunch of my old friends from college are going to be here, everyone is excited to meet you.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and fill them in. “Let’s do it.” Sage steals the phone to tell Sam we’re leaving now, and Hailey shoots an expression of disbelief my way.
Hailey and Sam have resisted my every attempt at making them like each other and insist on retaining their disdain for one another. Hailey finds Sam to be arrogant and selfish, while Sam finds her to be rude and judgmental. They refuse to believe that they’re simply misunderstanding the other, so in the middle I remain.
I take her hands in mine. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to stay long, I’ll just meet whoever it is he wants me to meet and then we’ll leave and get those margaritas, okay?”
She sighs. “It’s fine. There should be alcohol there, right?”
* * *
S age has enough clothes in her car to fill a closet. She grabs a hot pink dress and black heels from her trunk and changes in the backseat while Hailey drives.
“Since we have a moment now, I guess I’ll give you the news,” Sage says once she’s dressed. “But you can’t freak out, okay? It’s a good thing.” When I turn around in the passenger seat to see her better, her finger is pointed at me, as if she knows me and my tendency to panic.
“No promises.”
She rolls her eyes before meeting my gaze once again. “I’m moving out.”
My eyebrows shoot upwards, and my shoulders jolt as if the words have physically pushed me. “Moving out? Where are you going to live?”
“With Brian, duh. You know our lease is up next month, so I thought now would be the perfect time.”
“You just started dating him a few weeks ago. You’re moving in with him already?”
“Dimples, Cori.” She shrugs. “I know what I want.”
Okay. Just breathe. In and out.
My mind spins a mile a minute, thinking of potential roommates. Taking over her half of rent might be feasible if I eat scraps at the diner, and don’t turn the heater on. Or the AC when summer fully arrives. Except this is Texas and I’ll die without the AC. Maybe if I-
“Quit spiraling,” Sage says with another eye roll.
“I’m not spiraling.”
“Yes, you are, I can see it on your face. Your eyes are darting around the car but not seeing anything. You’re freaking out in that freaky head of yours.”
“I’m just working out how I might be able to afford rent without asking some random stranger to move in with me.”
“Ask your best friend,” Sage says.
“I just signed another year's lease on mine in January. I’m sorry, Cori,” Hailey says from the driver’s seat, bringing us back to the issue at hand.
“I already knew that, don’t be sorry.”
“But, you could sleep on the couch? Or we could get bunk beds? We could share a bed. I’m a cold sleeper anyway, we could cuddle!!” Hailey adds, desperate to present any idea that doesn’t involve me moving in with the man she hates.
“Or, I don’t know, maybe you could… let’s see… move in with your boyfriend ?” Sage’s eyebrows rise.
We’ve only been dating for nine months. Is that long enough to move in with someone? It’s out of the question anyway. I can’t just ask him if I can move in and invade his space—he has to be the one to offer it. And if he does, would Nick be okay with me moving in?
Hailey reaches over the center console and grabs my hand. “I may know someone who could move in, someone I know from college. She’s really nice.”
Sage throws her hands up. “What’s wrong with moving in with Sam? You spend half your time over there anyway.”
I repeat my concerns out loud, which causes her to stick her fingers in her eyes. I add, “What if I give up our apartment and it doesn’t work out with you and Brian?”
“Thanks for your doubt, Cor. I’m so glad I have your support.” She turns to look out the window. “I’ll pay rent until the lease is up and then you can either renew it with someone else’s name on the paperwork, or you can grow up and communicate with your boyfriend.”
* * *
O n the bright side, the unfortunate news of Sage moving out distracts me from my typical pre-party routine where my insides twist themselves until bile floods my throat. There’s sour candy and salt packets in my pocket to ground my senses, just in case I can’t ward off a panic attack through breathing, but it also helps that Hailey is here with me. Like a support blanket.
Before we’re inside the door, Sam’s hand is wrapped around my wrist, pulling me into the hallway towards his bedroom. Once we’re inside, he hands me a shopping bag.
“Here, I got this for you.”
I peek inside and see red fabric. “What is it?”
“It’s a dress. And there are shoes underneath. I thought you could wear it tonight.”
I pull it out and find a necklace and lacy underwear as well. “Why? I already changed.” The dress is modest but still shorter than I’d like and I’m not sure that I’ll be able to walk in the heels.
“It’s been a while since I bought you anything nice. And, I’ll admit, I was a little afraid you’d show up wearing a t-shirt or something.” He smiles, his eyes light.
“Well? Are you going to put it on? The dress is supposed to have shapewear sewn in,” he says. I pull my blazer closed and cross my arms over my chest.
“Do I have to?”
“I mean, it’d be kind of rude not to, don’t you think? I bought it for you. His eyes narrow. “What? You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s pretty, it’s just… I’m already dressed. And it’s so short and probably tight.”
“Come on, I went to a lot of trouble picking it out for you, I thought it’d make you happy.” More like, his assistant picked it out. “It’ll look a lot sexier than what you have on. Don’t you want to make a good impression? This is a party, Cori. No one else is wearing jeans. No one that matters, anyway.” I know he’s referring to the dark jeans Hailey wears.
Reluctantly, I start to take off my clothes.
After I’m done, I look in the mirror. As expected, it’s too short, too tight, and not me at all. Sam clasps the necklace around my neck, a single, simple diamond embedded in the center.
“And take your hair down. Your hair looks so much nicer down.” He unclasps the hair clip and fluffs the waves out over my shoulder.
I swallow hard and attempt to pull the dress down, but it’s no use. The cool air against my legs demands my focus as he pulls me back out of his room and toward a group of strangers. It’s a good sign that he’s so eager for me to meet people, right? Taking a few deep breaths, I mentally prepare myself for the assessment I’m about to undergo from these curious eyes.
Don’t panic.
“Guys, this is Cori. Cori, this is-”
I shake hands with each person, but my brain doesn’t absorb a single name that Sam says during each introduction. I’m too busy wondering why Sam insisted on showing me off to these people. I’m inferior in every way, a platypus among swans. There are two women and three men within this circle, all shiny and polished in ways I’ll never be, but I find myself thankful for the outfit after all. I would have looked ridiculous in my blazer and jeans next to these people.
“It’s, uhh, nice… nice to meet you all. You’re all friends from Sam’s- I mean, of Sam’s from college?” It doesn’t matter if you’re an expert at something; watchful eyes apply pressure that could cause anyone to fumble. Sam, noticing my heaving breath, furrows his brows while I feel like I’m running a marathon through mud.
They all nod, and one of the women asks, “When did you two start dating?”
I look at Sam, but he’s waiting for me to answer. “About nine months ago.” But I guess that wasn’t enough of an answer because they continue to stare at me.
Thankfully, Sam chuckles and continues the story of how we started dating, and I use the time to look over my shoulder for Hailey. She stands against the kitchen counter alone sipping her drink. Reading the plea on my face, she comes to stand beside me. Sam tenses when he notices her approach but introduces her despite his disdain, and she presses her lips into a thin line.
After a while, Sam ushers us off to another group of people.
One of the women in this new group, who Sam introduces as Erin, smiles widely, her white teeth almost blinding. Holding out her hand to me, she says, “We’re so excited to finally meet the woman who’s been putting up with this guy. Sam and I dated a bit in college, but it wasn’t really serious. I love your dress! So tell me about yourself. What do you do for work? How did you and Sam meet?”
The introvert in me is shell-shocked by the energy bursting from her tiny frame, but I manage to recover and take her dainty little hand in mine, hoping she doesn’t recoil from my sweaty palms. Then I recount the story of how Sam and I met, keeping it short and sweet.
She narrows her eyes at Hailey before I can answer any of her other questions. “You look really familiar, did you go to NHU too? What’s your name? I love your hairstyle!” The red-haired woman that stands beside her, who Sam introduced as Kenna, rolls her eyes just enough for me to catch it, but I’m not sure if it’s toward Erin or Hailey.
Before Hailey has a chance to answer, Erin snaps her fingers. “We work together! You teach English, right? Wait, do you have A or B lunch?”
“B,” Hailey answers, unsure.
“We’re so having lunch on Monday. I have a free period before. I’m the cheer coach, but I also teach math. I’ll pick up some salads and meet you in the teachers' lounge in the west hall. Oh, I’m so excited to have a new work friend!”
While they talk, I feel like prey beneath Kenna’s unimpressed gaze as she studies me, my clothes, my shoes, my hair. I avoid looking back at her, but my peripheral vision is excellent, a skill you pick up on when you’re an observant wallflower afraid of accidentally making eye contact. She takes a sip of her drink and talks over Hailey to ask me, “You don’t talk much, do you?”
I finally meet her unfriendly stare, unsure of how to answer that dreaded question. Or observation , as Nick called it the other night. On one hand, no, I don’t talk much. On the other hand, the opportunity for me to talk much hasn’t exactly presented itself. I’ve answered every question I’ve been asked, but the focus of this conversation has been on other people besides me. Was I supposed to insert myself into the conversation despite my having nothing of value to contribute?
I decide to give her what she wants but without further explanation. “Nope.”
“Are you shy, or something?”
It’s hard to admit, especially with the negative connotation usually accompanying the label, but there’s no point in pretending otherwise. “Yes.”
She smiles, feigning innocence, and I brace myself. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll get you out of your shell eventually.” As if all I needed to stop being shy was a determined person who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
She cocks her head. “What did you say you do for work?”
“I’m just a server for now.”
Sam is quick to jump in and add, “Yeah, while she’s still in school finishing up her bachelor’s degree.”
“Oh? What’s your degree in?” It’s a perfectly reasonable question, but I can’t help the feeling that Kenna senses the lie. Because it is.
I look up at Sam. I’m not still in school , I’m not finishing my bachelor’s , I’m just a server. That’s it.
I thank God when Sam gets a text and calls out, “Okay, quiet down everyone, they’re downstairs.” He moves around the room, turning off lights and ushering guests to duck down.
Hailey takes this opportunity to pull me off to the side.
“Are you kidding me?” she whispers. “You can’t move in with that asshole.”
I don’t respond. Too much has happened tonight. Our plans were rerouted to a party, of all things, Sage dropped a bomb on me, then I was thrown into a den of hyenas where I discovered that my boyfriend is ashamed of me. After I was made to feel ridiculous for being insecure about our differences in social class and attraction ratings.
I try to stay focused on the task at hand: surprising Nick. Mainly to keep my body from shaking and my insides twisting. Then, I realize I don’t even know what this surprise is for. Is it his birthday? Is it a “Welcome back,” situation?
Whatever it’s for, Nick walks in trailed by Tyler and Callum, the lights flick on, everyone shouts, “Surprise!” and the buzz of chatter resumes.