Chapter 4
Aspen
Present
Reid followed me the entire way home, like some sort of stalker.
It’s about a twenty-minute-long walk from On Tap to my apartment, so I thought at some point he’d get bored of driving at a snail’s pace behind me, but he never peeled off.
He even waited, watched, as I unlocked the door to my building and didn’t drive away until I was inside.
He made no further attempts to try to talk to me. Didn’t try to give me his number or a way of contacting him. It shouldn’t sting, because the reminder of how he thought I might be trying to use him is fresh, but it does.
My shoes feel like they’re weighted with cement as I trudge upstairs and down the hall to my apartment. Laughter echoes into the hallway from behind the closed door, and I unlock it to find my roommates sprawled across one of the couches in our living room.
But that’s not what catches my attention.
“You guys watched the new episode without me?” I cry out, pointing at the TV playing our favorite reality dating show. One of my favorite contestants is mid-meltdown.
Sara at least has the decency to cringe, but Marley looks over at me in exasperation. “We couldn’t wait! You know people spoil everything online so fast.”
“It’s like an extra hour you had to wait.
” I drop the guitar next to the door and hang my purse up on a hook.
I toe off each of my shoes and kick them off to the side.
Sara side-eyes the action but doesn’t comment.
She’s the neatest of the three of us, but it’s like she knows she can’t comment on it right now after this betrayal.
“We can start it over,” she offers and picks up the remote. The movement stirs Macaroni, my six-year-old orange tabby rescue cat, from his current napping spot at her feet. He yawns, stretching his paws out in front of him, before giving me a lazy blink.
Even he’s a traitor tonight.
I wave her off as I head into the kitchen to grab a bag of microwave popcorn. Once it’s cooking, I quickly change out of my work clothes and into pajamas before dumping the popcorn in a bowl and joining my roommates.
The two of them are cuddled on the mustard-yellow sofa that Marley insisted they buy, while I sit on the opposite couch.
It’s a navy loveseat that I found on the curb years ago but is still in great shape.
They’d probably prefer we buy a new one, but I refuse to part with it.
It was my first piece of furniture I ever “owned” when I first moved to the city.
I settle into the cushions and we watch the rest of the episode in silence, only shooting each other looks that speak volumes when it’s time for the contestants to choose a new person to partner with at the end.
The episode ends on a cliffhanger that leaves the three of us momentarily speechless, before launching into a full-blown conspiracy conversation for the next half an hour.
Macaroni gets up and walks down the hall to my room, displeased with the noise. “Good night, Mac!” I call after him, and he simply twitches his tail in response. He’ll be ready to snuggle once I come in for bed.
Once we all settle down from that excitement, Sara asks me, “How was your day? You were gone before I got home earlier. I didn’t think you were supposed to start until five tonight?”
I sigh and pull a fuzzy blanket over my legs. “I wasn’t, but Kevin called and the trainee that he was supposed to be working with on the morning shift was a no-show.”
I wasn’t even supposed to be the one working when Reid showed up tonight. Maybe he would’ve stuck around long enough until I was in and we still would’ve run into each other…but maybe not.
“That sucks,” she says. “You’re always stuck working doubles at that place.”
“The tips are good,” I shrug. It was supposed to be a temporary job, something to help me pay for school, but that was my naivety talking, thinking that I could afford college without putting myself into thousands of dollars of debt.
Debt that I’m still trying to pay off, without a degree to even show for it.
“How was your day?” I ask them.
Sara has her arm wrapped around Marley’s shoulders, mindlessly playing with the blonde strands of her hair as she answers, “Busy. We had a meeting with a new travel writer that we’re interested in working on a feature with.”
“Did it go well?”
Marley nods excitedly. “She agreed to work with us for six different spreads over the course of the next year.”
“That’s amazing.” I beam at them. “What sort of travel content is she going to be making?”
The two of them launch into their vision of the project, and I sit there listening, proud as ever to be able to witness the behind the scenes of what they do.
They started a lifestyle blog only two years ago, back when I first met them when they were looking for an additional roommate.
Over the course of the last couple of years, they’ve taken it from an internet blog to print magazine that’s grown from just the scope of LA to different cities across the country.
“Well I can’t wait to see it all come together,” I say and pop the last few kernels of popcorn in my mouth. I drop the bowl on the coffee table and lean back again with a heavy sigh.
Sara frowns. “You seem more tired than usual.”
Exhaustion weighs heavy on my body but more so on my brain. Stifled emotions rise up into my throat, and I don’t even know why.
Or maybe I do, but I’m confused by the effect it’s having on me.
“Is everything okay?” She untangles herself from her girlfriend and leans forward, eyeing me with concern.
“Someone I used to know came into work tonight,” I mumble. A gross understatement.
Marley’s face pinches. “Ah, so not someone you would’ve liked to remember?”
I don’t know how to answer her question.
Some of my only positive childhood memories are of Reid and that year we lived in the same foster house.
It’s not even that I look back at them with rose-colored glasses, shining them up more than they deserve.
It truly was the only year when I was growing up that I felt like I had someone watching out for me.
But I’m not that kid anymore, and neither is Reid. I don’t know this version of him, and after tonight I’m not sure if I really want to.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. Sara opens her mouth but shuts it with a look from Marley.
“You know we’re here for you when you’re ready,” Marley says. Sara nods her agreement.
I give them a half-hearted smile, grateful for their support and the fact that they don’t try to pry when they know I’m not ready.
“I’m gonna head to bed,” I tell them, rising to my feet and stretching my arms above my head. “And tomorrow night, you guys better wait for me.” I point a finger at each of them as they repress guilty smiles.
“Night,” Sara says, and Marley adds, “Don’t forget we have Cecily’s bridal party on Friday. Do you want to go in on a gift with us?”
Shit. I had forgotten about one of our friend’s showers. “Sure, thanks. Just let me know how much I owe you.”
“We should start an upcharge for third wheel privileges,” Sara quips.
I flip her off as laughter follows me down the hallway to my room.
When I get there, Macaroni is curled up on the foot of my bed under the streetlight streaming in through the window. He peeks open one eye, then curls a paw over his face with a groan.
Despite my evening, it makes me smile, and I scratch his ear before plugging my phone in to charge on the nightstand and pull back the covers.
The stiff material is oddly comforting. Once, I splurged on nicer sheets after I got one of my first paychecks from On Tap.
They were a soft beige and claimed they were made from bamboo.
The salesman had told me I’d never want to buy another brand of sheets ever again.
But I couldn’t sleep on them. They were too soft, too slippery, just wrong. Was it fucked up of me that I craved the scratchy, cheap ones that I grew up on?
Maybe a little bit, but I returned them the next day and have kept these old teal ones instead.
I wonder if Reid ever got used to the luxury items we weren’t afforded. I’m sure he had no problem adjusting to the money he brought in. Upgrading his instruments, clothes, houses, and who knows what else.
He did all of that while I had to fend for myself back with our foster parents.
Resentment bubbles in my chest and I choke it back down. I don’t want to feel that way toward him. I don’t want to feel any sort of way toward him. Maybe I should’ve taken a page out of his book and forgot about him.
It’s true that I always wanted to live by the beach. I wanted to get as far away from Pittsburgh as possible and craved the calmness of the waves crashing on the shore and the sand beneath my feet.
But there was always that possibility that one day I could potentially see him again. That I’d see him and he’d see me and he’d remember. That he’d say he was sorry for leaving me behind.
It was foolish of me to hope. I should’ve learned that lesson a long time ago.
I should’ve let him believe I was a starstruck groupie and left it at that.