by Lauren Helms
My legs bounce in a quick rhythm to match the impatience I have sitting in the back of the cab. I’m stuck with no control over how quickly we get there. I know that even if I would have had enough gas, driving myself would have gotten me stuck in the same traffic. But the feeling of being completely out of control is getting to me. I check the time on the front dash and cringe. I’m going to be lucky to get there before she boards. Her flight leaves soon and it’s going to take her a good amount of time to get through security. She’s almost down to crunch time. I’m still at least eight minutes out. I pat around my jeans pockets and realize I left my phone back in the apartment. So much for texting Dex to tell him that I’m almost there.
After the longest ten minutes of my life, the cab pulls into the drop-off zone. I tell him I’ll get out here, I’m quite far away from the entry for Terminal 3, but I know it will take longer if I stay here and wait in the cab.
I shove a wad of cash at him and jump out, sending a silent “thank you” to the sky that I didn’t leave my wallet too. I take off jogging, weaving through the throngs of people. I know once I can get to the correct doors, I won’t have far to go to find her.
I finally make it through the doors and I’ve only taken three steps into the building when a security guard steps in my path.
“I'm sorry, son, but you need to slow down.”
“Sorry, but I just wanted to say goodbye before she flies out of my life for good,” I tell him, slightly concerned with the sappy shit that just rolled off my tongue.
“Still, no running,” he grumbles and moves on.
I stretch up to see over the crowds of people. Sure, it would have been easier if her flight had been at a less busy time. I bump into a woman and mutter my apologies when I spot Dex and Link. Thank God! I push through the crowd and come to a sudden stop when they turn and start to head my way.
Dex registers me first. He has his arm around a weepy-eyed Morgan, paused in a kiss to her temple. I survey the group and see Ruby and Bernie, arms hooked together the way girls often do and Link standing next to Ruby. It’s the person I don’t see that makes me realize that I’m once again too late to say goodbye.
I bend over and rest my hands on my knees to catch my breath from the impromptu run and try to center my breathing. I keep my head focused on the horizon of people behind them, searching for Gia. Then I hear Dex’s voice by my side.
“She’s gone, man. She’s probably already in line to go through security.” His voice is laced with pity.
Breathing hard I say, “I just wanted to say goodbye,” as I stand to my full height, hands on my hips.
“I can call her,” Morgan suggests. “Yeah, I’ll call her, and she can come back. You can still say goodbye.” Her voice is full of hope at the suggestion.
I shake my head.
“If you want a more dramatic effect, you could buy a ticket, get through security and meet her in the boarding area. She’s flying Southwest.” Link offers this as Morgan, Ruby, and Bernie all look wistfully at me. But it’s no good.
I shake my head again and tell them, “No. No, it’s better this way.”
“Says who?” Dex questions me.
“Says Fate? Who the fuck knows, but something didn’t want me here.”
“Really, let me call her.” Morgan reaches into her purse to grab her phone, but I put out a hand to stop her. I’m too far away to touch her but she stops when I nearly yell at her.
“No. Don’t. I’d rather her not know I was here.”
She looks like a kicked puppy, but she must have released her phone because her hand comes up and out of her purse and Dex squeezes her closer to his side.
“Sorry, Morgan, I didn’t mean to yell.”
She sniffs but nods. I turn back the way I just came and hear them follow behind me.
“Did you drive?” Link asks as he catches up with me.
“No, took a cab,” I mutter.
“Want a ride back with us?” He jerks his head back toward the rest of the group.
“Naw, man. I’m gonna grab another cab,” I say, not wanting to break my focus on getting to the pick-up zone.
“You sure?” he questions.
“Yeah, I need some time to put this behind me.” I finally look at him and offer a fake-as-shit smile then head off in the opposite direction from where they are headed.
I need some time to lick my wounds and admit to myself how badly I fucked up. I hope I get the chance someday to tell her I’m sorry. But that can’t be now. Now is the time for me to start living without Gia Newman in my life again.
Chapter Thirty-One
Gia
Growing up in Wisconsin, it was always cold in February. In Indianapolis and Chicago, it was usually in the 30s and 40s. But in LA, it seems to always be in the 60s. It's definitely one of the things I like best about the city. I’ve been here for three months now and … I can’t say I’m loving it.
I want to. I really do. The weather? Love it. The job? Adore it. The location? Not so much. I miss the hell out of my friends back in Chicago.
My job is everything I hoped it would be. I’ve gotten to interview some famous TV actors and producers. My daily and weekly columns on the site are starting to gather a solid following. I like my co-workers and my boss is great. I’ve even gotten used to going into the office every day. I’m really finding my groove. Even though this is the perfect job for me, there is something missing from my life. I tried to ignore it at first, but I am so stinking lonely.
I knew coming out here on my own would be difficult. I’ve always had a person. Someone has always been by my side. When I had to leave Simon, I quickly found Morgan and she’d been there for me for nearly a decade. And now, I have no one. Sure, I’ve made a few friends, mostly co-workers and a few people from the industry. But I wouldn’t say any of those friendships have blossomed yet. I know I need to give them time.
Also? I hate living alone. I thought I would secretly love it. Living with Morgan was easy, we’d gotten used to each other's annoying habits. Heck, I was even used to Dex practically living with us. But I’ll be sitting on my rented couch here in LA and start to talk to Morgan. I get a few words out before I remember she isn’t here. I used to get my best work done in the quiet of the night. Now, there is no break from the silence.
I was unable to make it home over the holidays like I’d planned. It was a major letdown, but I had to attend a company-wide event that fell right in the middle of the time I would have been back in the Midwest. So, I haven’t seen my family or friends since before I left. I talk to Morgan and Ruby via text daily. We also talk on the phone and FaceTime. It’s great seeing them, but I want to hug my besties. Bernie and I email weekly, she keeps me updated on the gaming front. I don’t ask but she drops casual hints about what Simon is up to. We’ve actually become closer; she calls me her pen pal. In a way, I guess we are.
But I can’t help but feel like I’m an outsider now. Technically, I am. While I stay in touch with them digitally, I can’t actually hang out with them. I’m not going to The Bar with them, eating Mike’s Pizza, or watching Ruby and Link battle it out over old-school video game tournaments. They’ve got inside jokes that I don’t understand. It’s depressing, and half the time I’m annoyed with myself for being sad. Because what did I expect? I left.
I often think about the morning I left for LA. I remember how Morgan broke down and started crying when she hugged me goodbye. Ruby got all teary-eyed and warned me about clothes shopping again. Bernie hugged me and told me we would go dancing when she came to visit. Link shook my hand like the doofus he is and when Dex hugged me goodbye, he said he tried and was sorry. I had assumed he meant that he tried to get Simon to come.
I kept a straight face though. For them. I got through security, found my departure lounge, sat down, and then promptly started to cry. I didn’t even care that people were staring at me. Part of me thought he’d come. That he’d give me a hug and say goodbye. We could have had closure on a relati
onship that was never meant to be more than it was in the time that we had together. I really needed it. But by him not coming, it showed me that he really was done, and I accepted the disappointment as something that I deserved.
But damnit if I don’t think about him at least once a day. When I realize I’m daydreaming, I crush that down like an empty can of soda. He isn’t the reason I haven’t started dating. I mean, I’ve only been here for three months, I need to settle in. At least, that’s what I keep telling Ruby every week when she asks if I’ve been out on any hot dates.
I haven’t heard from Simon since the day we broke up. Not that I didn’t expect as much. I saw him once. About a month ago, I was FaceTiming with Morgan when Dex arrived. He must have a key now, because he let himself in and was suddenly there in the chair next to Morgan. Her phone jostled a bit with him picking her up and setting her back down on his lap. That was when I caught a glimpse of Simon walking into the kitchen. With the new angle and both Morgan and Dex on the screen talking to me, I had a direct line of sight into the kitchen when he came out. He saw me too and stood there for a second. He gave me a small wave and kept going. The call ended shortly after that and for the next week my dreams were filled with nothing but Simon.
Standing here in my tiny kitchen, I’m brought out of my thoughts by the beep of the oven telling me it’s preheated. I push a pizza stone with a cheap, cardboard-esque pizza into the oven. My mouth waters at the thought of how I will pretend this is a Mike’s pizza from back home.
Not even a second after setting the timer for the pizza my phone rings. Looking down at it on the counter, I see it’s my mom. My anxiety levels don’t skyrocket like they used to, but still, old habits die hard.
“Hey, Mom,” I say into the phone, tucking it between my ear and shoulder while I pull the pre-made salad out of the fridge. I use my oven a lot, not for baking home-cooked meals but for heating up frozen food. So, I try to make myself feel better about how I eat with some semi-fresh, pre-made salads. Meh, it’s the effort that counts, right?
“Hi, dear. How are you? Meet any actors I might know?” she asks, which is also something new. It used to be that when she would call, she would launch into whatever was going on with Todd and never ask about me. Now, she always makes it a point to ask about how I’m doing first. About two weeks after I moved here, I flat-out asked her what had changed. She was a little taken aback at first by my question, but I explained that before Todd’s breakdown, she never seemed to have time on the phone for what was going on in my life. She told me that she would always realize it after she hung up that she didn’t ask and would feel bad. But she just fell into that loop every time. Then after Simon and I left Indy that weekend, she asked Todd what he’d said to me. He gave her a much nicer CliffsNotes version of what he had said. That's when she realized that it was time to put some focus back on her daughter.
I chuckle at her excitement. “No, but I have just received the next two episodes of Chicago Fire. I know how much you love that show,” I tell her. Perks of the job. “Sweeps Week is coming up, so all the networks are pulling out all the stops when it comes to garnering the highest ratings. So, I get to review a lot of shows early.”
“That’s so neat, sweetie. But you know, the only reason why I loved that show so much is that you were in Chicago,” she tells me, and it warms my heart to hear this.
I smile even though she can’t see me. “Thanks, Mom. So, what’s up with you?” I ask.
“Oh, not a whole lot actually. Things with work are slowing down and I’m thinking about taking some time off. Maybe to come out and see you? Would that be OK?” Her tone is hopeful and, again, the smile on my face starts to grow.
“I would love that, Mom. Just let me know when you want to visit. The girls are visiting next month, but just let me know the date,” I tell her, suddenly looking forward to the coming months.
“Oh, good. Your dad wants to come, but I think I could use a girls' weekend. Maybe we can plan a summer trip as well.” She’s clearly excited now too.
“So.” I steer the conversation in the direction it usually goes, but it’s been about a month since she's given me an update. “How’s Todd doing?”
“Well, believe it or not, I didn’t call to give you an update,” she chuckles. “I really did want to ask about visiting. But since you asked, I do have one: Todd is doing really well. You know, since he’s been in the new treatment facility, he’s had round-the-clock care and access to some really great therapists. I talk to him a few times a week, and he seems a lot more stable. He’s not ready for visitors—his choice—but he is the one who calls me.”
“That’s really great to hear, Mom.” I genuinely mean it. While the things Todd confessed to me all those months ago still sting when I dwell on them, I have accepted them.
“I just feel like this is a turning point for him. That he might be able to finally get his illness under control and live his life to the fullest,” she says, her voice full of hope.
“That would be ideal,” I respond.
“You know, he asks about you,” she tells me.
“Really?” I’m honestly floored by this news.
“Yes, about once a month or so. I told him that you moved to LA shortly after you were last here and since then he’s asked.” Once again, her tone is hopeful and full of pride.
“Well, next time you talk to him and he asks, tell him I said hi.” I don’t think we are anywhere near a phone call ourselves, but this is a good sign.
“Will do,” she replies. At that moment, the oven gives me a one-minute warning that my pizza is almost done.
“Hey, Mom, my pizza is almost ready to pull from the oven, I’m gonna have to let you go.”
“Oh, of course. Thanks for chatting,” she hurries.
“Anytime. I’ll let you know what to expect from the upcoming Fire episodes before my article goes up next week.”
“Oh, good, I was hoping you would. I love getting the inside scoop.”
We say goodbye right as the oven timer starts to ring.
I slice my pizza and take my plate and bottle of water over to my coffee table where I settle in to get started on the shows I need to watch for next week’s articles. This is my new normal and I love it, but I would much rather have a friend or two here to join me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Simon
I’m standing at the dresser in my closet, pulling out the clothes I’m packing for our trip tomorrow. We are heading to Atlanta for a tournament and I’m trying to stay on top of things instead of waiting until the last minute to pack, like I usually do. We are gearing up for our busy season, which is full of several tournaments. We usually stay in the US but at the end of the month, we are flying to the UK. I always enjoy those longer trips abroad a tad more than all our US events. I wouldn’t mind traveling for pleasure someday though, with no other commitments.
It’s something that Gia and I used to talk about: all the places we wanted to travel to. She didn’t at the time have a lot of traveling experience, but when you’re young and don’t love your home life, you tend to imagine the possibilities. Again, in our all-too-brief second chance at a relationship, we talked about the places we’d been and would like to go. She didn’t have a passport and I’d only been to the UK, so we still had lots of dreaming to do.
And speaking of dreaming, I’m pretty sure this thought process I’ve just had—the one that leads me to think about the girl in question—will haunt my dreams for the next couple of nights. Typically, I have the same dream, which is actually borderline nightmarish. It’s of her in my tree house, as an adult, telling me she is leaving me. When I beg her to stay, she laughs at me and tells me she never loved me. It’s stupid really, but it jerks me out of bed several nights a week. Occasionally, my dreams of Gia will wake me up in a sweat for another reason. With my hand wrapped around my dick, panting her name. It’s a lose-lose situation, really.
She’s been gone for months now and I’m not sure when I
’ll get over this. While I’m far better off this time around than I was when I was sixteen, the Gia-sized hole that was starting to heal is back. I fear it’s with me for good. While I’m not fighting the depression I went into when she left the first time, puppy-love heartbreak has nothing on real, love-of-your-life heartbreak.
Yeah, I’m not scared to admit it. I know she was “the one” for me and that I will probably always love her. And maybe I’ll fall in love again, but it’s really not on my radar right now. Right now, my job is my focus. Like it always has been.
We’ve been having the best season yet, sweeping the five tournaments we’ve competed in so far. We still have five more, plus the championships in August. But I can’t help but feel like our gaming career is shifting. I don’t know why I feel this way. Dex, Bernie, and the rest of the team haven’t really said anything to make me wonder how much longer we’ll stay together. Dynamics change within pro teams. It’s not often you find a team like ours that consists of the same five members for so long. Link left our team and was replaced by Chuck two years ago. Other than that, it’s been the same.
“Hey, you got a minute?” Dex asks from the doorway of my room.
“Yeah, I need a reason to put this packing off,” I mutter.
“Cool,” he says, and he turns and walks away. I guess that means we are chatting in the living room. So, I follow. Link is sprawled out on the couch. I pull the pillow out from under him as I walk by and smack him with it, telling him to make room. With a humph he kicks his legs off and pushes into a sitting position at the opposite end of the couch. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and turn my attention to Dex.
