by Lauren Helms
“Maybe,” I sniff out weepily.
“Let's watch some Oliver Queen. I know how much you love The Arrow,” she says, picking up the remote to power up Netflix.
“Only if we can watch the episodes where he and Felicity start to realize they are falling in love. They are my favorite.” She agrees and we settle in for a long day of watching Ollie save the city. No sexy TV hero will be able to save me from my broken heart, but it will dull the pain for a while.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gia
It’s hard to be excited about a new, life-changing opportunity when your heart hurts. It’s been nearly two weeks since Simon and I broke up and my heart hasn’t started to mend. I’m not sure I want it to, though. I kind of feel like this is my karma. I’ve kept one too many secrets and I’ll never truly have a full heart again. If I’m being completely honest with myself, I have been living with a Simon-sized hole in my heart since the day I left him when I was sixteen.
But with adult love comes a different kind of heartache. When you are a kid and in love, the heartbreak is dramatic. You don’t know how you will ever live without the one you lost. But then, before you realize it you’re back to normal, wondering why you were being so melodramatic in the first place.
As an adult, when your heart breaks, you realize that life will go on. You just have to do it with a broken heart. You have to get up and work, be social and eventually move on. It's less dramatic because you most likely already know what heartache feels like. But it isn’t necessarily less traumatic.
But to be clear, knowing all this doesn’t make it any easier, it’s just the knowledge that you will move on, without the one who broke your heart. In my case, I would probably be the heartbreaker. Yes, Simon ended things, but I don’t fault him for that. I’m the one who messed up. I will live with that for the rest of my life. I’m the one who lost the love of her life … twice.
Over the past several days, I’ve put my shields back in place. They aren’t the ironclad walls I used to have, mostly because I have nothing left to hide. Also, because I don’t want to lose another person in my life. I’m not happy with how I’ve hidden from the ones I love most in the past. There are days I struggle with even liking myself. But then I remind myself that we all make mistakes, and we can learn from our mistakes. That’s what I’ve done, but maybe a little too late, though I’m not sure about that yet. The shields that are in place are really there to protect me from myself.
I give myself a couple days to wallow. Then I get up, put my big girl panties on and decide to prepare for the next chapter in my life.
I leave in exactly one week. I’ve put a deposit down on a studio apartment I can barely afford. My parents are going to be driving up next week, the day before I leave to take my car to park at their house, where it will stay until I decide what I want them to do with it. I’m tempted to just sell it, but my mom didn’t want me to decide right away. I don’t think she really wants me to leave, but she hasn’t come out and said it.
I currently find myself just standing in front of my closet wondering what to pack first. I’ve done just about everything else but pack. Packing seems so final. It’s probably why I’ve left it for last.
“Knock, knock,” I hear come from my half-open door. It’s Ruby and she pushes her way through with a bunch of flat, unused boxes.
“Hey,” I offer with a smile. I’ve been trying to do that as much as possible when around the girls. I didn’t want my last weeks with them to be sadder than necessary.
“I’ve brought boxes,” she announces. “I bought a lot because the cute guy at the supply store was just so excited about selling me the right kind of box.”
Morgan walks in, not far behind Ruby. “Good to know that we have enough boxes for at least two more moves after we pack you up, Gia.” She laughs at Ruby.
“Hey, I’m just thinking ahead. You know, being prepared and all that jazz,” she says nonchalantly. I just chuckle and look around my room.
“I really don’t know where to start.”
“Well, you’re going to ship most of your stuff, so maybe you should start with your clothes,” Morgan offers, grabbing a box from the stack on the floor and putting it together.
“Oh, but plan ahead and pull out everything you want to wear over the next week and then a few days after you arrive in LA. Just so you don’t have to go through already-packed boxes and in case your clothes boxes get lost in the mail. That would stink,” Ruby adds.
“You know I can buy clothes in LA, right?” I ask Ruby.
“Yeah, I know, but everything is going to be so new. You won’t have anyone to go shopping with you yet, and it will just be nice to have your old, reliable Chicago clothes.” Ruby sniffs.
“Oh, no. No, you don’t get to be all sad now, Ruby,” I tell her. She’s been very easy-going about this, so I thought I was only going to have to deal with a sad Morgan.
She swipes away a ghost tear. “I’m just worried about your fashion sense. We are shopping buddies. You need me.”
“How about I promise to text or FaceTime with you when I venture out to go shopping? Would that make this a little easier for you?” I offer, knowing it’s not really why she is sad.
“Yes. That would help.”
Morgan bumps Ruby’s shoulder as she passes, placing the assembled box on my bed. “I think Ruby will agree with me when I say that getting to this point, a week out from you leaving, and packing up all your stuff makes it all sink in a little bit.”
“No, I really am worried about her buying the wrong clothes,” Ruby protests.
“I know, sweetie, I know,” Morgan says, patting Ruby’s arm. Before I have a chance to reply, Morgan yanks open the bottom dresser drawer.
“OK, this is all sweats and PJs. Grab what you need for the week and I’ll put everything else in here. Ruby, you hit the closet.”
Nearly two hours later almost everything in my room has been packed up. Morgan is an organizational wizard and has everything labeled with Post-its on the outside for easy removal when ready to ship, and printouts right on top, for when I open the boxes once I’m in LA. We will also be sending these in stages to save on money. It’s already going to cost me an arm and a leg to ship, but I don’t have enough stuff to warrant a U-Haul rental. That plus hotels and gas for a four-day trip would be way over my budget, so I’m flying out there. I’m getting rid of a lot of stuff that I don’t want to drag to LA with me. And I’m going to buy new kitchen stuff since I’m not going to leave Morgan without any.
I’m leaving a lot of things in Chicago and starting fresh in LA, and I really don’t know how I feel about it.
“Well, I think you are pretty much packed up,” Ruby says, surveying the room.
“Will you leave all your M&M’s that you hide around the apartment, though? I’m going to need some comfort food and those will make me feel close to you,” Morgan says, in a sort of “I'm totally joking” way. But I’m thinking maybe she’s serious.
“Haha, yes. I will,” I laugh.
“Soooo,” Ruby draws out. “We wanted to run something by you.”
She slides a sideways glance at Morgan. Oh great, now I’m curious.
“We want to throw you a going-away party,” she says. She’s looking at me, trying to figure out what I’m going to say. Actually, both of them look like they are expecting me to say no.
“Uh, sure,” I say, kind of confused. Their hopeful expressions turn to excited ones.
“Oh, good, because we already have it planned. We just needed the final guest list from you.” Ruby claps her hands together.
“What do you mean my final guest list? It isn’t a wedding,” I ask skeptically.
“We kind of already invited everyone we knew but don’t want to miss anyone,” Morgan unapologetically tells me.
“So, when you say you’ve already planned it, you’re not just meaning, in your heads? Like, it’s a done deal?”
They both nod their heads enthusiastically.
�
��What would have happened if I had said no?” I ask.
“Meh, we would have pouted for a second and then just made it a surprise going-away party,” Ruby replies.
I just laugh. I love these two so much.
Then Ruby pulls out her phone and asks me to start listing off people that I want to be there. Minutes later I’m struggling to think of anyone else to add to the list when I notice Morgan biting her lip and looking all fidgety.
I point at her, cocking my eyebrow. “You. You're being all, twitchy. Spit it out.”
“Well, I kinda, maybe, sorta invited Simon.” This time she does sound apologetic.
I try to fight the cringe, but I know they see it.
Grumbling under her breath Ruby glares at Morgan. “Mo, why would you do that? I thought we decided against putting everyone in an awkward situation.”
“I know, I know. But it was awkward for me and it just slipped out,” Mo whispers back.
I close my eyes trying to center myself. They continue their whispered argument.
“If it was awkward for you, how do you think everyone else felt?” she asks.
“I know, I know,” Morgan repeats.
Ruby starts to speak again but I stop her. “You guys, I can hear you.”
“Right, sorry.” Morgan looks sheepish.
“So, what did he say?” Ruby asks.
She bites her lip again and I know she doesn't want to answer. But it’s too late, I have to know.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Just tell me.”
“He said that it would be best for everyone if he didn’t attend. But that he appreciated the invite.” Morgan sounds so sad as she shares his response, but I’m not surprised. I feel some hot tears prickle at the back of my eyes but tame them down with quick blinks.
“It’s fine.” I try to sound like it doesn’t bother me. But damn it, Morgan still looks guilty. “What else are you not telling me?”
“I kind of told him to not be a jerk and make sure he tells you goodbye,” she says with more authority in her voice.
I groan, “Mo … why would you say that? For starters, I’m the jerk for not telling him about the job. Also, he doesn’t owe me anything.”
“But he said that he didn’t want to be a jerk, that he was just really mad and hurt. I told him that we were all seeing you off at the airport and he said that he’d try to be there,” she says with hope-filled eyes.
“What does he mean by try to be there? I mean, if Dex, Link, and Bernie are going with us … He’s pretty much on the same schedule as them. I don’t get it.”
I mean, Ruby has a fair point, but I know deep down it depends on if he wants to see me one last time or not. I think it might break my heart a bit more if he doesn’t show, but why would he? I did it to him, it's my penance. I clear my throat to break up their argument.
“It’s fine. Really. Honestly, it’s best he isn’t there.” Ruby nods her head in agreement but Morgan looks at me skeptically.
“Really, Mo. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my last night with my friends if he were there.” I try to convince her … and myself.
“OK, if you say so.” Her hands, palms out, wave back and forth in surrender.
I pull myself up and off my bed and start to busy myself with shifting boxes around. I see Ruby glance to Morgan out of the corner of my eyes but just ignore it. If they want to say more, they will, but I’m not going to continue dwelling on anything Simon related. At least, not out loud, I’m not.
Chapter Thirty
Simon
“Dude. You know I love you but are you sure this is how you want to play this?” Dex asks, leaning against the doorjamb into my room.
I lean back in my beanbag chair—yeah, I have a fucking beanbag chair in my room. I scrub a hand down my face and look over at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what,” he replies, brings his hand to his chin in measurement. “Blond, about yea high, leaving on a jet plane and isn’t coming back again.”
“Your obsession with that movie is borderline worrisome, man,” I reply. We all quote movies but the fact that he’s always quoting shit from Armageddon is both hilarious and baffling.
“Morgan loves it.” He lifts a shoulder and shrugs.
“I’m not Morgan.”
“Thank God for that. Anyways, Gia. She’s leaving. In about,” he pulls out his phone from his pocket and looks at the time, “two hours or so.”
“Yeah, and what’s the problem?” I ask.
“She’s leaving. Gone. Maybe for good. You’re not going to say goodbye?” He doesn’t act surprised that I’m not going, since I’ve already told him as much.
“Nope.” I pop the last part of the word.
He studies me for a minute. Being under his scrutiny does not inspire feelings of comfort.
“Is it because you are still mad at her for leaving, so you are giving it back as good as you got from the first time around? Or is it because you’re too much of a pussy to say goodbye to the one girl you’ve ever loved? Dick or pussy? Which way are you going to play it?”
I swear under my breath. Of course, one of my closest friends would know me well enough to call me out on my bullshit.
“Well, to be clear, I’d always choose pussy. Dick really isn’t my cup of tea,” I mutter.
Dex walks into my room and plops down on my bed. He jerks his head forward to encourage me to continue.
I shift my body in the chair so I’m facing him and consider my words.
“I’m still really pissed at her. Not so much that she’s leaving, but that she hid it and continued to start something with me,” I say.
“So, if she’d told you from the start, you wouldn’t have started sleeping with her? You would have kept your distance?” he asks, knowing damn well I wouldn’t have. “Because, to me, I’m not sure it would have mattered much.”
“It would have mattered to the point that I wouldn’t have let myself fall in love with her again,” I say through clenched teeth. I’m annoyed that he’s making me talk about this.
“Ah, but you see, I’m not positive that you ever stopped,” he says with a cock of his brow.
He’s right. He’s clearly enjoying himself right now though, so I’m not going to tell him he’s right.
“So, you’re not going to say goodbye because you love her, and you don’t want to man up?” he asks. But then from down the hall somewhere I hear Link yell, “Sounds like a pussy to me.”
I roll my eyes and toss my head back into the chair. Fucking-A. I do not need Link involved in this conversation too. Dex is chuckling but Link never appears in the doorway, so it looks like I’m safe on that account.
“I get it, man. Losing your girl sucks donkey balls. Even though she might not come back, I can tell you that she’d love to see you,” he offers.
I perk up. “She told you that?” A knowing grin slides across his face.
“Nope, she really doesn’t do a lot of talking when I’m around anymore. But Morgan says she got all hopeful when she mentioned she accidentally invited you to her party,” he says.
I like how he says accidentally because it was evident that Morgan invited me out of clear uneasiness.
“And as I told Morgan when she asked, me going to that party would not have been a good idea,” I defend.
“Maybe. But she was visibly watching the door for you last night.” He pauses a moment. “Look. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t agree with what she did, not telling you about the job. But, you’ve shut her out of your life. You’re clearly miserable. You could have been enjoying the past couple of weeks with her—” He’s interrupted by Link yelling again.
“Think of all the great sex you’ve missed out on, man!”
Fuck, he’s right about that.
Dex continues, “He has a point. But what I’m trying to say is that if you two are indeed done, have the balls to go and say goodbye. I think it would be good closure for the both of you. If you don’t
want to go, tell me now and we’ll make sure she doesn’t get her hopes up over the possibility of seeing you today.”
I just stare down at my hands. I wait for a beat and tell him the truth.
“I really don’t know. I’m mad at her. I don’t want her to be sad, but I’ve already lost her once. It was harder than shit to end things with her, but damn, I’m not sure I’m going to survive letting her go again.”
With a sigh, he stands from the bed and leans down to clasp my shoulder as he walks by. “Alright. Well, if you change your mind, we will be near Terminal 3. Link, Bern, and I are leaving to meet the girls there now.”
I watch him leave my room and hear him say something to Link. Then there’s some rustling of keys and the front door opens and closes behind them.
I sit there for a while, playing back my conversation with Dex. I think about how upset Gia was when I ended it with her that morning. The past few weeks have been hard avoiding her, even though it’s all on me. Because I’ve wanted to go to her so often. The thought of her not being around anymore, even to glare at from across the room, feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Yeah, I learned to live my life without her around. I managed to survive, and I’ll do it again. But for some reason, it seems that it’s going to be a lot harder this time.
Shit.
Glancing at my phone, I realize that if I don't go now I’ll probably miss her. Because I do want to see her one last time. I want to kiss her face one last time, tell her goodbye and wish her the best of luck in her new life. I jump up from my chair on the floor and head down the hall. I get to the front door and realize I don’t have my shoes on. Jogging back down the hall to my room I snag up my shoes from where I kicked them off earlier and grab my keys from my nightstand too.
I run to the elevator and jab the down button, but it doesn’t light up. I jab a few more times and then I decide I don’t have time to wait for the elevator to start working. Has it been down all day or just right now when I need it the most? I turn around and rush to the staircase skipping steps as I go. I get out to the building’s private parking lot and jump in my car, cranking it on. I nearly pull out of the space when my “low gas” light dings on. I smack the steering wheel in frustration. I don’t want to chance running out of gas on my way to the airport, so I jump out of the car and run back through the building lobby to hail a cab in the front. Surprisingly, there isn’t a wait. I nod to the doorman and jump in the waiting taxi. I tell him I need to get to O’Hare as quickly as possible. He just rolls his eyes and mutters that he will do what he can.
