37. Zoe
THIRTY-SEVEN
ZOE
I had always believed the stereotype that everyone in New York was mean, but the group gathered at the coffee house was anything but.
I’d run into a few new students who would be in my program on campus when I stopped by to stroll around after apartment hunting and the next thing I knew, we decided to hang out.
I’d hoped it would take my mind off Josh, but it wasn’t working.
The spot was a “see and be seen working” type place, where everyone looked perfectly curated.
There were more beanies and Clark Kent glasses than I could make sense of given the temperature, and all of the patrons had the same air of “I’m writing a best seller” urgency as they pounded away on their laptops.
I felt all but invisible sitting among them, which was better than sticking out like a sore thumb the way I usually did in Poplar Springs.
“Okay, so Melissa is from Florida, I’m from Maine, Brody is from New Jersey…and where are you from, Zoe?” Cassidy asked, taking a sip of espresso.
“It’s a small town out west; no one’s ever heard of it. Big sky country. ”
“Ooh,” Cassidy said, her eyebrows rising. “I think we’ve got ourselves a bona fide cowgirl!”
Everyone laughed as I waved my hands. “No, hardly. I mean, I know a bunch of them, but I would never call myself one.”
I didn’t mention my fear of horses, which technically wasn’t a fear anymore. More like an aversion to being stomped on.
Brody leaned in with a conspiratorial look on his round face. “So, tell us…is everyone there…backward? Like, total hicks? I’m guessing that’s why you’re leaving and coming to the Big Apple.”
“Not at all!” I snapped back, suddenly feeling protective of my hometown.
“It’s got all sorts of people. But I have to admit, no one really understood me there.
Maybe you guys know what I mean? It takes a certain kind of person to get our lifestyle.
I’ve met a lot of people who consider staying up all hours of the night coding super weird, but that’s a way of life for us.
Right? We do our best work when everyone else is asleep. ”
I looked around the group hopefully as they all nodded.
“Oh, totally,” Melissa answered. “Everyone thinks I’m gaming all the time. They refuse to accept that I’m a backend designer. They think it’s all fun and games.”
“Exactly!” Cassidy chimed in. “And I keep having to tell my mom that just because I work in computers doesn’t mean I know how to fix her printer!”
Everyone laughed, and I felt myself relax a little. Maybe I’d found my way to a new home after all, despite the pull I kept feeling for Poplar Springs.
“Meeting you guys was a lucky break,” I said, sitting back and hooking my heels on the crossbeam of the chair opposite me. “This is nice. ”
“Hold up, hold up,” Cassidy said, waving her hands to get everyone’s attention. “What do we have here?” She pointed to my boots perched on the chair and when everyone turned to stare, I blanched.
Shannon’s boots. She’d insisted that I take them as a reminder of home while I was in the big city.
“Cowboy boots?” Brody said in an incredulous voice. “And beat-up old ones at that! Why-come you tryin’ to deny you’re a cowgirl, young filly?” His accent was a ridiculous mash-up of Southern and some sort of cartoon character.
“Yee haw.” Melissa laughed, pretending to twirl a rope above her head and everyone laughed with her. “Guess you’re a bumpkin after all!”
“Oh my God, have you seen those rancher rodeo guys?” Cassidy asked. “They’re so damn hot.”
The last thing I wanted to talk about was hot ranchers.
“The boots belong to my best friend; they’re not mine. She wanted me to have something from home,” I mumbled, collecting my things and shoving them in my backpack. “Anyway, I need to head back to my hotel. Nice meeting all of you.”
“Y’all come back now,” Melissa joked.
“You got it,” I said. “See you around campus.” Not gonna happen.
I dashed through the crowded coffee house and onto the even more crowded sidewalk, nearly colliding with an ancient woman pushing a wheeled cart.
“Watch it,” the woman snarled at me.
I mumbled an apology and hurried the few blocks to the hotel, eager to put a wall between me and the bustle of the city.
I felt filthy in a way that was totally different from getting dirty at the ranch.
It was like I’d been coated in a layer of grime and impatience, and every bit of my body needed a good scrubbing.
Nothing that a nice long soak couldn’t fix. Or at least that’s what I hoped.
A bath, room service, and a few hours later I was finally starting to unwind from the tension of the day. I flipped open my suitcase to change out of the comfy white robe and slipped on my sleep shorts, then stopped dead when I realized what was lodged between two pairs of jeans.
Josh’s favorite T-shirt that had become my favorite T-shirt.
It was heather gray and had been through the wash so many times that it was practically transparent, which meant it was the most comfortable thing I’d ever put on my body.
And the fact that it smelled like Josh made it that much more appealing as pajamas.
I stared at it like it was something illicit or illegal tucked in between my pants and unmentionables. Could I? Should I?
I reached for it gingerly, as if the garment could shock me like the fence around the back fields at Lost Valley Ranch. Was it possible that the thing felt softer than I’d remembered? I slipped it over my head and felt the tears come as I caught a whiff of Josh’s scent.
What were we doing? Being apart felt so wrong after how right reuniting had felt. I climbed into bed, barely noticing the crisp white sheets. I pulled the covers over my head like I didn’t want anyone to know that I was full-on crying now.
I couldn’t deny it. The city was rough, and I missed the quiet beauty of home. I’d done my best to escape it but here I was, wearing a stolen T-shirt and missing the hell out of Poplar Springs, Lost Valley, and... I pulled the neckline up to my nose and breathed in deeply.
Josh . I missed Josh .
But no. He’d made his choice and it wasn’t me. And I had dreams that were coming true. The program, the move…this was where I needed to be.
So why did it feel like I didn’t belong all over again? And why did it hurt so much more, this time?