Chapter One
Light it up. Clean it up.
Rezi
“Fuck love.”
Fuck attraction. Fuck romance. Fuck intimacy. These notions were buried deep in my core.
“Girl, are you okay?” my friend, Krystal, whispered. “Rez, you’re talking to yourself a lot.”
Great. On top of everything else in my life, I was going crazy, and it was all because of him … DeShawn White. I’d spent the past year trying to forget my ex. Then he strolled into my uncle’s wedding last month, making an absolute fool of himself, but still managing to look good as hell doing it. And just like that—I mentally snapped my fingers—I was broken all over again.
I thought I’d moved past our breakup. Gotten fully over him. Yet, he clearly still had an impact on me simply with his presence.
I pedaled harder, trying to outrun my thoughts, but similar to the stationary bike I was currently riding on, my mind stayed grounded in one spot. DeShawn. We were only together a year. The same amount of time we were apart. Meaning I should be over him. Yet, feelings were a hard thing to control, and damn did I used to love him.
“Fuck,” I spat once more as our cycling class came to an end.
“Dang, boo, potty mouth before breakfast?” Krystal asked rhetorically. “Who do I have to thank?”
It was hard to believe I rarely used to curse. It hadn’t been a conscious effort. I just hadn’t really needed to use them before. Yet nowadays swear words were a normal part of my vocabulary. Life could be so f-ed up after all, so what other expression would accurately fit those moments?
Ten minutes later, as we entered the crowded boutique coffee shop across the street from our gym, the most sinister smile shot across Krystal’s face. “Seriously, girl, who or what do I have to thank?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just a little annoyed this morning.”
Scanning the crowd, I searched for a distraction. I hoped to find a nice quote on the wall, or perhaps a bearded, grizzly man drinking a fancy, delicate coffee concoction. Both those things, no matter how obscure, always cheered me up. Simple as they may be, funny wall art and huge, manly-men drinking foam designed lattes, made me smile. However, today, instead of finding a happy pick-me-up, my effort halted on a man and woman across the shop.
“Look at this shit.” I pointed unapologetically at the couple canoodling in the corner as we stood in line for coffee. “Why in the hell did they even get out of bed this morning if they were just going to continue all the same fucking, only now in public?”
“Okay, you just said fuck and shit in the span of thirty seconds.” Krystal knocked my hand down. “And you’re pointing at strangers,” she scolded. “Rezi, you don’t even curse like that, and although I love a good reprimanding of PDA, that couple is literally just sitting close to one another while sipping their drinks. Plus, it’s so loud in here, they’re probably only that together in order to hear each other speak.”
She glanced back over at them. “I honestly can’t even tell if they’re dating based on their body language.”
“Well then you must be blind,” I retorted, my volume getting louder with each word.
“Because they are clearly eye fucking across the table in view of everyone in here!”
My voice carried, pulling the attention of the couple and everyone else in the coffee shop. Still, I gave zero fucks.
“Apologies,” Krystal’s voice quivered as she shouted. “My friend is clearly having a mental breakdown.”
I’d never seen her skin turn so red.
She shot the crowd a forced smile before ushering me out onto the sidewalk. I nearly stumbled onto the street under the weight of her vigorous nudges.
“Okay, girl, what the hell is wrong with you?” Not waiting for a response, she continued. “I ignored you yelling at the cycling instructor during class because frankly it was hilarious, and I was glad you distracted her before she made her way over to me. Then I ignored you scolding that mother whose kid almost knocked you over because it was clear she wasn’t even attempting to control her child.”
I opened my mouth to speak but was silenced by her finger in my face.
“But now you’re yelling at people for absolutely no reason, and seeing shit that isn’t there.”
I swatted her hand away.
“Sooo,” she continued, her eyes bulging out, “before I’m pulling you out of some physical altercation, watching you key a stranger’s car for parking over the line, or simply killing you myself, then why don’t you just tell me what’s up? What or who has you so bothered and frankly pissed at the world today?”
“Whom?” I corrected. The brat in me rearing her ugly head once more today.
“Rezi!”
Ugh, she was right. I was irritated from the moment I opened my eyes this morning. Hell, I was moody the whole month, and I knew exactly why.
Failing to control my emotions was rare for me, and if Krystal was calling me out then I must have been even more irate than I felt. She wasn’t my warm and fuzzy friend. Far from it. Sarcastic, sassy, and tough were more the adjectives most people would use to describe her. She kept life and people at a distance, outside of her select few. And she wasn’t the friend to get involved without being asked. Respecting boundaries being another one of her treasured skills. Meaning it was time I faced the facts that something truly was wrong with me, and I was partially to blame.
“DeShawn White,” I murmured.
In the seconds that followed, I watched her face turned from surprise to questioning.
“Blast from the not-so-distant past,” she said. “You saw him?”
“Yep, last month at Uncle Titan’s wedding.”
I proceeded to tell her about the wedding—DeShawn making an ass of himself, ending in our brief interaction before he left. She probed, wondering if anything else had conspired between us, further inquiring why I was so upset by such a short encounter. Based on her tone, I knew she had her own theory, but wouldn’t force her opinion on me without me requesting. Although I comprehended why I was so agitated, I had no idea how to express it. Humpty Dumpty being the only words ringing in my head.
Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. And so on and so forth. That felt like my fairytale. I was Humpty Dumpty.
When first meeting DeShawn, I’d felt like Sleeping Beauty—awakening to my prince and living happily ever after. But in actuality, I was really a fragile fool in for a steep fall. Left cracked on the floor. I think, in the end, a part of me always knew that DeShawn and I were star-crossed lovers doomed to fail from the beginning. But boy did I, for once, hate being right.
I barely had a chance to utter another word before my iPhone rang, breaking into our discussion.
“Everything alright?” Krystal asked when I returned a couple minutes later.
“Yep, just a work call. Apparently I need to fly to Colombia next week to handle some investment business for our company since Uncle Titan’s on his honeymoon.”
“Colombia? As in South America?”
I nodded.
She sighingly cried, taking in a deep breath. “That sounds amazing. I need a new job.”
“Yeah, thank God for my work,” I concurred. I opened my mouth to continue but got distracted when a nearby smoker threw his cigarette and coffee toward the garbage, both missing the trash can entirely.
“Hey buddy, the sidewalk is not a trash can!” I yelled. “If you’re going to light it up then you better clean it …”
“And on that note, it’s time to go,” Krystal interjected, her eyes widening in embarrassment.
Pushing me in the opposite direction of the stranger littering, she pulled out her phone. Within minutes an Uber had arrived to take me home.
“Okay, honey.” Her voice was high-pitched suddenly, like I was a toddler. “You get home and start packing.”
“The trip’s not until next week,” I disputed. “And I thought we were getting a late breakfast.”
Her head shook rather erratically. “You don’t even eat breakfast, but if you are hungry then you should order something at home to be delivered.”
Her shake transitioned from back and forth to nodding as she spoke. “And I’m going to go take another workout class since you’ve been over here stressing a girl out all morning.” Her eyes bugged out for the fourth time today. “Love you,” she finished, slamming the Uber door with me securely inside.
“Love you, too, boo,” I added uselessly given she was already out of earshot, running back toward the gym.
“Well, I guess I’m stuck with you,” I stated, noting the driver’s nervous laugh while they agreed.
Great, my demeanor is even terrifying my driver and I haven’t even done anything yet.Leaning back, I decided Krystal was right. Today was clearly a wash and perhaps I was better off at home. “Fuck DeShawn.”