Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Oh god!” Ronnie and I both shout. She follows it with, “I thought you were at your internship!” as I take a step backward into the door, which snicks closed against my back.
I spin around and fumble at the handle with my eyes squeezed shut, but when I manage to get the door open again she shrieks, “No! Close it!”
I do as she says, pressing my forehead against the wood and cursing every single thing that has ever happened in my life to bring me to this moment.
Behind me, I hear Ronnie say, I assume into her phone, “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“Is it safe to open my eyes now?” I ask tentatively after a few more moments.
“Yes, yes, oh, god. Sorry about that.” When I open one eye and look over my shoulder, Ronnie is standing in the middle of the room wearing an oversized T-shirt and stuffing her legs into a pair of sweatpants. “I was, um, on the phone with Trevor.”
“Yeah, I figured that part out.” I know most people in a dorm probably masturbate when they have the room to themselves, but I never thought Ronnie would be one of them when she sees Trevor almost every weekend.
I vow to always knock on our door when I’m coming home unexpectedly from now on. And maybe just generally, to be on the safe side.
Now that the adrenaline is beginning to ebb, something else is prickling at the back of my mind.
It’s … envy. I’m jealous that Ronnie has someone to be so open with about her sexuality, and I once again have no one.
And I hate being jealous of my best friend, because she deserves love and good sex and a solid partner.
And anyway, I made the choice to not have those things, so I have no right to be envious.
Dropping my purse on the floor, I flop onto my bed and crawl up to my pillow.
Maybe I can just sleep the whole rest of the semester and then I don’t have to deal with any of this ever again.
Or I can give up on everything, move back home, find a job walking dogs or painting crosswalks or something else that will ensure I don’t have to interact with other humans. That sounds like a nice plan right now.
“Oh, honey, is my coochie that terrible to see?” Ronnie brushes my hair back from my face.
“Please wash your hands first?” I say, batting her hand away. I know she was making a joke, but I don’t want her vagina-hands touching my hair and face.
“I was using a toy, not my hands.” She rolls her eyes, but puts on hand sanitizer. “And we’d barely gotten started.”
“I’m sorry that I interrupted.” Now I feel even worse. I remember what it was like when the guys would get me worked up and all I wanted to do was come, and now I’ve made it so Ronnie can’t finish.
“If you’re home early from work with your eyes all swollen from crying, I’m guessing there’s a reason for it. Never be sorry for needing a friend. You know I’m always here to support you.” This time when Ronnie brushes back my hair, I don’t flinch away. “Now tell me what happened.”
“I got fired,” I say into my pillow. I’ve always been the best, the hardest worker. Never in a million years could I have imagined that I’d get fired from anything.
Briefly, I explain everything that happened at work tonight. It’s embarrassing, and I start crying again as soon as I start talking, but at least having Ronnie next to me is comforting.
Except that she’s not who I really want to be comforting me. I love Ronnie so much, and I’m grateful that she’s here, but hers isn’t the shoulder I’m aching to cry on.
Which makes me cry even more.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to call the HR department there and complain,” says Ronnie.
“There’s no point. I knew the rules, and I broke them anyway.
” If I hadn’t sent Carl the article and asked for the paper to consider running it, I would have been fine.
But I got overconfident, and never expected anyone to know about my relationship with the guys.
Although I still stand by the fact that I wrote an amazing article and the community should read it.
“Maybe a little, but what Carl and Brad did was worse. He had absolutely no right to treat you like that, especially in front of that other asshole.”
“I’ll never get a job as a reporter.” I gave up the guys so I could focus on my career, and then I ruined that and now I’m left with absolutely nothing. “Carl knows too many people, and he’ll give me a shit reference. No one will want to hire me.”
“You don’t know that,” says Ronnie, but I can tell she knows I’m probably right.
Rolling over, I frown up at her. “They’ll ask why I was fired, and he’ll say I broke the ethics code.”
“Hmm, I suppose that is a little hard to spin.”
“And the World Championships are this week,” I stare past Ronnie to the ceiling. I feel empty. Maybe she was right. Maybe my heart is broken.
“Have you been watching those promos again?” Now Ronnie isn’t consoling, she’s annoyed. “I told you to stop. They were assholes and you deserve better.”
“I can’t help it.” I pull the pillow out from under my head to hold over my face.
“Don’t make me play mom and threaten to take away your phone,” she says. She’d really do it too. “Now, I’m going to take a shower. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
Once she leaves, I throw the pillow farther down the bed and just rest my head against the mattress as I stare up at the ceiling for a good ten minutes.
I have no motivation to work or study. My career is in jeopardy and I see no way to get it back on track.
I can reach out to my advisor, but it’s not like they’ll be able to do much, if they even want to given that I’m the one who broke the rules.
No legit newspaper will want to work with me once they find out why Carl let me go.
My phone rings from deep within my purse. It’s probably my mom, but I really don’t have the energy to pick up it up and talk to her right now. I’m already feeling bad for myself. There’s no way I can help keep her spirits buoyed right now too.
Ronnie comes back in, looking much calmer with her hair wrapped in a towel. The phone rings again as she enters, and again I let it go to voicemail.
She’s just shucked her bathrobe and is standing there topless, digging through her drawer for a bra, when it rings a third time.
“Do you want me to just turn it off?” asks Ronnie, seeing that I’m making absolutely no move to answer it.
“Sure.” I really don’t care right now.
She digs my phone out of my purse, but freezes when she looks at the screen. Instead of turning it off, she answers it, staring at me.
“Hello, this is Rebecca’s phone.”
I sit up. I’m not opposed to Ronnie answering my phone, but her face has gone white with concern.
“Yes, thank you for calling. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hangs up and looks at me, her face ashen. “That was the hospital. You mom’s been in an accident. She just arrived in an ambulance.”
Ronnie swings open our door, still shirtless, and yells up the hall, “Courtney! We need your car, now!”
“No! I’m going out tonight!” Courtney calls back down the hall.
“Bitch, this is an emergency! We’re going to the hospital!”
“Why? You having a baby?” calls a different voice.
Ronnie doesn’t answer, just pops back into the room and throws on a tank.
Our door swings open again, and Courtney stands there in a party outfit, only half her makeup done.
“Here are the keys.” She holds them out by the disco ball keychain. “I hope everything’s okay.”
“Me too. Thank you.” Ronnie smacks a kiss right onto Courtney’s cheek. “Come on, Rebecca.”
“Thanks,” I mumble to Courtney as I hurry behind Ronnie.
I want to feel grateful to Courtney for letting us borrow her car, but there’s no room in me for anything but guilt for letting my phone ring so many times without answering it.
And for all the times lately that I’ve ignored it when it really was my mom calling.
I haven’t had the energy to deal with her problems on top of my own, but now for all I know she could die thinking I don’t care enough to answer her calls.
I’m a terrible daughter. I’ve left her to be taken to the hospital alone, without anyone there with her for support. I don’t even know what to expect because I didn’t even take the call myself. I made my best friend do it because I couldn’t be bothered.
Ronnie drops me off in front of the ER, telling me to go inside and find my mom while she parks. I rush in and give my mom’s name at the desk.
“I’m her daughter, someone called and said she was in an accident.” Everything is a confusing blur as a nurse ushers me to a curtained bay.
I fling the curtain aside and see my mother stretched out on a bed with a blanket over her, her arm strapped to her chest. Her face is bruised and scraped. “Mom! I’m so sorry, I got here as fast as I could. What happened?”
“Oh, it’s not too bad. I don’t know why they called you,” says Mom, waving her good hand dismissively. Pointing to her purse on a chair, she says, “Can you try calling your father again for me?”
“Where is Dad?” My father is a dick and a cheating liar, but surely he would at least show up to the hospital to be with my mom when she’s been hurt.
“Or better yet, why don’t you call him from your phone? I’m sure he’ll answer you. Tell him not to worry. That I’m going to be fine.”
“You don’t look fine. Why isn’t Dad here? What exactly happened?” The only reason she could want me to call from my phone is if he isn’t answering any calls from her.
“I’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” Mom insists. “Just as soon as you tell him what’s happening.”
“But I don’t know what’s happening!” The guilt I felt earlier is beginning to fade, being replaced with an irritation I try not to show. This woman is maddening, but she’s injured and has just been through something traumatic. She doesn’t need me yelling at her.
“Hi, are you the daughter?” asks a male nurse, stepping through the curtain into my mom’s bay.
“Yes, I’m Rebecca. Can you tell me what happened?” Since my mom clearly won’t.