Natalie physically flinched like I struck her. We never really talked about this out in the open, even when I showed up to school with bruises on my legs. I stood and paced the small kitchen, Natalie’s infuriating look of pity following every step. I didn’t like this. I didn’t want to talk about this.
“I can’t imagine what it was like—”
Needled past endurance, my head whirled around. “No, you can’t.”
“But you haven’t tried, Jessica. Admit it. You’ve survived everything that happened to you, but you’ve never really allowed yourself to live.”
The suffocating fear escalated even more. “What the hell does that mean?”
She was close to shouting now. “I’ve been waiting years for you to wake the hell up and get help for yourself! You’re a fucking mess. You can’t afford groceries. You’re incapable of getting your shit together. And being alone with men makes you have panic attacks, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. And now you’re turning to this insanely stupid idea that will probably make your problems worse.”
My knuckles turned white on the head of the chair. I briefly entertained throwing the hot bowl of soup in Natalie’s face. I didn’t trust myself not to scream something I’d regret forever, so I said nothing. Natalie’s half-enraged, half-remorseful face said it all: something had broken between us. I didn’t need to hear her say all of those awful things out loud, because I said them to myself every day.
My shaking voice finally broke the silence. “Thank you for reminding me that I’m a failure.”
Even my best friend thinks I’m hopeless.
Of course, she was right. Wasn’t she always fucking right? Before she could speak, I fled into the safety of my bedroom. Even though I knew she wouldn’t follow me, I still locked the door. My pinched face and red eyes reflected from my vanity’s mirror. Fuck you. I wanted to destroy the mirror and shatter the image of my pathetic face. I saw myself bent at the waist, clutching the bathroom sink as he ripped down my pants. I looked into the mirror and sobbed as his naked body loomed behind me. Then I was trapped, forced to ride out the hell that was my memory until it was over.
* * *
The buzzing phone jerked me out of sleep, and I rubbed my tear-encrusted eyes. My heart jumped when I realized I had a new email. I rolled on my stomach to read it.
Hi Jessica,
Hopefully, this hasn’t reached you too late. I would like to schedule another meeting in Napa. I have a company outing there tomorrow and I would like to have a chat with you while I’m there. My driver can collect you at your apartment around 3pm. Please reply back if this is acceptable.
- Luke
Does this mean I passed? I doubted it because of his strange business-like tone. Groaning at the thought of going all the way to Napa, but thankful I didn’t have to drive; I punched out a quick email. I didn’t understand how the background check was completed so quickly. Perhaps he would drive me all the way there just to tell me I didn’t get the position. Definitely not. He would’ve just sent a cordial email thanking me for a nice time, and apologize for selecting another candidate.
After sending off a quick reply, I fell back on my pillows and wondered what the hell I would wear since I didn’t want to borrow something else from Natalie. He’s going to be in something more casual, probably. I checked the time. It was midnight. Only fifteen hours to go. Restless, I sprang out of bed and blinked as I flipped on the light. I slid open the closet door and rifled through my sad collection. I bit my lip. There was nothing here to impress him. My fingers lingered over a tired skirt, a frayed blouse, and returned to the cocktail dress. I can’t wear the same thing twice.
Resolving to wait until morning, I threw myself back into bed. A shopping trip might be possible, but I didn’t like the idea of spending the little money I had on clothes.
The restless thoughts haunted me for hours as my body refused to let me sleep. A slightly burnt coffee smell drifted in from the kitchen; Natalie was getting ready for work. I gave up trying to get back to sleep and flipped on the light switch. My worry about meeting with Luke dwarfed the slight twinge of annoyance when Natalie knocked and opened my bedroom door.
She stared at all the clothes laid out on my bed and blinked. “Uh—I just wanted to apologize, Jess. I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m really, really sorry about all the things I said. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.” Natalie squinted at my bed. “What are you doing?”
I wasn’t really sure that I was ready to forgive her, but I didn’t have any energy to stay angry. Desperate for her advice, I waved my hand towards the clothes. “The billionaire wants to meet me this afternoon in Napa. I’m trying to figure out what to wear.”
Natalie stepped inside and inspected the pile on the bed. She bit her lip, an unmistakable signal that she was searching for something delicate to say.
“Just say it—my clothes are crap.”
She avoided my eyes as she picked up a faded blouse sleeve. “Listen, just go in my closet and pick out something. Whatever you want.”
I heaved a great sigh of relief. “Thanks so much. You’re a lifesaver.” Grateful we were the same size, I wasn’t worried with a full wardrobe of Natalie’s cute outfits at my disposal.
“It’s no problem.” She wearily stared into her coffee mug. “Why does he want to see you all the way over there?”
Shrugging, I began hanging the clothes back in my closet. “I dunno. Well, he mentioned he had a company meeting there. He seems like a busy person.” It was weird to be talking to her like this, as though nothing had happened. Her vicious comments still rang in my head. Maybe she sensed I was still a bit hurt because she wished me luck before she left. She won’t be mad at me much longer. I’ll fix everything.
I didn’t leave my bedroom until I heard the front door close. My thoughts lingered on the mysterious, handsome man I met only a day ago even though I tried to distract myself throughout the day. I tried to resist Googling him, but ended up studying his strangely brief Wikipedia page anyway. In contrast, his father’s was very detailed and long. I scanned it to learn Luke was his only child and his mother died in her mid-thirties. His father was an alcoholic and was dying of terminal lung cancer.
No wonder he had a reputation for partying; it was an escape. I closed the page as a small blush crept through my face. I shouldn’t pry into his life. He wouldn’t like it.