6. Rory
Rory
The name splashed across the screen sparks about eight different reactions in me, and I don’t know which to go with.
I’m sad, but I’m also pissed off at the way things ended.
I miss him, and I want him to hold me in his arms, but I also want to never see him again, or maybe even take out some of my frustration by kicking him where the sun doesn’t shine.
None of the options are great, but regardless, it’s now ten o’clock at night. That’s far too late to text someone on a weeknight, at least in my book.
Also, I’m not talking to him. You’d think he would have gotten the message already.
We’re over.
My eyes prickle with tears, though, at that thought.
Crap. I hate that I’m crying again.
I’ve cried more today than I have in years. I thought I was all out of tears after the last round, where I sobbed into the pillow on my childhood bed, like some dramatic teenager in a Disney film.
But somehow, another tear runs down my cheek.
I can’t bother my parents. I’ve never been one to cry in front of them, at least about boys. Besides, they went to bed half an hour ago, and they’ve been listening to me melt down all day. They deserve a break from my drama.
I grab my phone and I type out a text.
Not to Nate, obviously.
And yes, I know I said the thing about it being too late to text, but that was different. That rule applies to polite conversation and acquaintances, which is all Nate and I are at this point.
For best friends, there’s no time frame.
For years, my go-to person has been Allie. She’s my ride or die, and I love her to death. But I’ve already spent a lot of time pouring out my heart to her. There’s only so much a best friend can take.
Plus, it’s an hour later in Chicago than it is here, so for the sake of Allie’s sleep cycle, I find myself typing out a text to Stacey.
Looking back, one of my regrets in life is that Stacey and I lost touch after high school. She’s quickly become a second best friend, and someone I can confide in no matter what.
I need a bestie right now, and I need to get her up to speed. Two birds and all that.
Stacey
Hey, you up?
Three dots pop up immediately, making it clear that she is indeed still awake and on her phone.
Yeah, what’s going on?
I take a breath. Better to just rip the Band-Aid off, right?
Nate and I are over.
What?????
***
Long story. But the best part? Guess who I found out from.
Who?
Yvonne.
Fucking Yvonne.
Wait, she knew you guys had broken up before you did? I’m going to murder Nate.
Based on your history with the police department up here, you might need to walk that plan back. But no, it wasn’t that.
But she knew before I did that Nate’s been keeping tabs on me. No wonder I’ve stayed single. How could he do that to me?
First of all, that was a misunderstanding, and I’ve matured since then.
Second, men and relationships can really suck.
But are you sure? It doesn’t seem like him.
Maybe, but I’ve been burned too many times in the past to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. When people show you who they are, believe them, and all that.
Ok. You know I’m here for you no matter what.
You need some cheering up? You can come over and we can do shots. I’d take you out to the bar but on Mondays they close at 9 in this bustling metropolis. Plus I have to work tomorrow.
Oh, shit. Just thought of something. Where are you staying? Are you still living with him?
No, I moved out.
You moved out?? You move fast, lady.
You want to stay with me? My apartment is just a one bedroom but I have a couch. Or we can cuddle in my queen size bed if you want.
The thought of Stacey and I cuddling makes me smile despite everything going on.
I’m at my parents’ house for now so no need for me to be your little spoon. Thanks though. Drinks sound good, maybe tomorrow?
Whatever you need. I’m here for you.
And you can be whichever spoon you want, babe. That’s what friends are for.
A good night’s sleep is supposed to make you feel better.
Isn’t it?
Somehow, it seems to have done the opposite for me, although it’s not like it was a good night’s sleep.
I tossed and turned all night, not used to sleeping alone after spending the last two months sleeping curled up with Nate. I’ve grown accustomed to drifting off with my back to his front, being lulled into dreams by his rhythmic slow breathing.
Without him, the stillness and silence were deafening. Every time I finally turned my brain off and started to drift into dreamland, a new worry cropped up to keep me from sleep.
This morning, my eyes are raw and swollen, probably a remnant of not just the terrible sleep but all the crying I did yesterday, too. Even my nose is still red.
I study my reflection in the bathroom mirror. God, I look awful.
I should be used to it, I guess. This is about what I look like every time I get dumped, and heaven knows that’s happened enough.
This is just the first time in a while that I’ve been the one breaking things off. It seems like that should be easier, but for some reason, it hurts even more than getting dumped.
I turn on the shower, needing something to wash away all of this blotchiness and bad feelings.
While the water warms up, I wander back across the hall to my bedroom grab my phone from its charger. A notification lights up the screen. I swipe to unlock it as I carry the phone into the bathroom.
Steam is starting to fill the small room from the shower while I scan the messages: one from Allie, and one from Stacey.
Nothing like besties and their brutal honesty to start the day off.
Allie
How are you this morning? Any second thoughts? Let me know what you need. I’m here for you, babe.
Stacey
Morning sunshine! Church Bar this evening? Even afternoon, really, if it’s that kind of situation. Let me know what time. I’m free after about 3.
I send a message thanking Allie and telling her there’s no chance of me having second thoughts.
I’m about to tell Stacey that I’m up for heading to the bar as early as she’s available, but something gives me pause. I reread her message and frown.
The Church Bar is where Nate likes to hang out.
Stacey
Not Church, that’s where the police guys go. Tonight might be a little soon.
Oh, shoot, that’s right. Don’t want to run into Nate. Right? Or are you ready to talk to him?
No.
Okay, then. High Times. Tonight? Or maybe in a few days. Let me know, I’m here for whatever you need.
Clearly Stacey read right between the lines of where the police guys go, and I love her for it, almost as much as I love that she’s not pushing me to talk to him, at least as much as Mandy and Allie seem to be.
I set the phone on the counter and peer into the mirror. A shower, maybe some makeup, more than usual. That might be enough for me to look presentable.
It’s not like the breakup is a secret, I suppose, so I’m not sure it even matters if I look like hell. Everyone in town will know why. At most, it’ll take two days for the gossip to circulate.
Visions of Stars Hollow taking sides after Luke and Lorelai’s breakup on Gilmore Girls float into my mind. HiLo may not have ribbons to designate whose side people are on after this breakup, but other than that, it won’t be much different.
Everyone will talk. Everyone will have an opinion.
And until the next big slice of gossip takes its place, my relationship with Nate will be the hot topic all over town.
It’s one of those features of small town’s that’s charming, until you’re the subject of the attention.
Steam begins to fog the mirror, the scalding water doing exactly what I need.
I turn away from the mirror, draw back the shower curtain and step in. As the water rushes over me, hot enough that my skin tingles, my tension starts to fade.
Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.
I press my forearms to the tiled wall and rest my forehead against them as the water beats down.
Usually I wait until I get home from the barn to rinse off, so a shower this early in the morning isn’t part of my usual routine.
As I stand under the spray, the beat of the water against my back almost meditative, I wonder if I should do this more often.
Not just to wash of dirt, but to wash away feelings that don’t serve me.
I stand there for longer than usual, but I’m starting to feel better.
Until I reach down and turn the water off.
As I pull back the curtain, the cold rushes in, and with it, all those feelings I was trying to push away.
I wrap myself in a pink towel dotted with seashells, one that my parents have had for decades. At least the shower gave me a brief reprieve, if nothing else.
When I finally start to venture downstairs, my squeaky-clean hair dried and confined into a braid for a day at the barn, the house is quiet.
Too quiet.
I pause halfway down the stairs, listening for footsteps or the drip of the coffee pot or the sizzle of bacon in a frying pan, but there’s nothing.
I strain my ear for any hint of who’s around. It’s not like Mom and Dad are at work, after all. They’re retired.
Maybe they went to grab coffee or doughnuts or something. It wasn’t part of their routine the last time I was staying here, back when I was in high school, but people change. Maybe it’s a new hobby. Who knows.
I’m about to call their names, just to check, when a whisper makes me pause just before I round the landing.
“We have to tell her.”
I freeze, my ears straining.
“She’s been through a lot in the last day or so. Maybe give it a few days. A week.”
“I don’t know if we…”
The voices fade before I can hear the rest of the sentence.
I wait for a few more seconds then move forward, stepping onto the landing. From here, I have a clear view of my parents in their usual armchairs, deep in conversation.
Spam sits between my mother’s legs, clearly living his best life as Mom absentmindedly scratches his ears.
I’m a little surprised that he ventured down here while I was in the shower, honestly.
“Morning,” I call, hoping they don’t realize I’ve been eavesdropping. I descend the last few steps to the main level.
Spam is the first to acknowledge my arrival, barking joyfully as he launches himself across the room and hops on his hind legs in front of me.
I scoop him into my arms. “Morning, you little nutcase. Are you behaving?”
Dad clears his throat. “He’s been good. I let him out to go to the bathroom this morning.”
“Thanks.” I set Spam back down.
He runs right back to Mom and turns around a few times before settling at her feet.
“So, um.” Do I tell them I heard part of the conversation? Feign ignorance?
For a moment, the three of us stare at one another. It only takes a few seconds for the silence to become uncomfortable.
I shift from one foot to the other.
Spam offers a small yip.
The piercing sound makes me jump. At the same time, though, I appreciate that he was the one to break the silence.
“How’s it going?“ I tuck one hand in the pocket of my jeans, going for nonchalance. “Have you had breakfast? I usually just grab a granola bar on my way to the barn, but I can make something if you want. As a thank you for letting me stay here.”
“Good morning, Rory,” Mom says.
She looks at Dad.
I wonder if I should ask what they were talking about, if I should make it clear that I’m ready to hear whatever they have to tell me, or if I should just pretend everything’s fine.
Dad beats me to the punch.
He clears his throat. “Hi, Rory. Come on over.” He motions to the couch. “Your mom and I have something to tell you.”