by Hazel Kelly
“What happened?”
She looked down at her feet.
“Gemma.”
“Tori, okay?” she said, half-kicking some woodchips. “Tori happened.”
“I don’t know why you let that girl get to you.”
“She doesn’t get to me,” she said. “But she doesn’t shut up either.”
“What did she say?” I asked, forgetting my own insecurities.
Gemma shook her head.
“Just the usual.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means forget about it,” she said. “It’s over.”
“She only picks on you because it makes her feel better about herself.”
Gemma rolled her eyes like I was as out of touch as the counselor I’d been talking to. “That’s not it.”
“Enlighten me.”
“She picks on me ’cause she’s a bitch.”
“That too,” I said, seeing Tori walk out of the bathroom, flanked by two other laughing girls I recognized from the popular lunch table. “I’ll be right back.”
“Alex, don’t,” Gemma pleaded as she grabbed my arm. “Please.”
“Trust me,” I said, marching my scrawny butt towards the bitch in question in my half-broken flip-flops and faded red trunks. Of course, I didn’t see myself that way at the time. In that moment, I might as well have been a linebacker for the NFL. “Tori, right?” I asked, stopping in front of the girls and remembering my height again as they looked down at me.
“Who’s asking?”
“Alex,” I said, rolling my shoulders back.
She cocked her head like I was an inconsequential rodent.
I mirrored her unimpressed expression as best I could. “Quick question,” I said. “You’re the girl who sharted herself in her sleep last week, right?”
Her expression fell. “No. Eww.”
“Weird. Because I’m sure it was you my buddies pointed out.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I heard it stunk up your whole cabin and the sheets had to be burned with your pajamas.”
“Whoever told you that was lying.”
“Is that so?”
“It is,” she said, cocking a hip.
“Well, if you don’t want to spend the rest of the summer trying to convince people you don’t shit the bed, I suggest you steer clear of my friend Gemma,” I said, pointing a thumb behind me.
She glanced over my shoulder and then glared at me. “No one would even believe you.”
“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “In my experience, people love cruel gossip. Especially when it’s about bitches who think their shit don’t stink.”
“You wouldn’t dare spread rumors about me,” she said. “Besides, I have witnesses.”
I glanced back and forth between the two ditzes on either side of her. “Who, these girls?”
She raised her eyebrows.
“They’re only friends with you so you won’t bully them till they cry.”
She clenched her teeth.
“But if you really want to test the friendship, see how long they stick by you when everyone else thinks you have a loose asshole.”
Her ugly mouth fell open.
“Or don’t,” I said, raising my palms and backing away. “Just find someone else to pick on, and you won’t have to worry about how fragile your popularity really is.”
“Who the fuck are you to threaten me?” she asked, her neck hinging forward like a snake.
“That’s entirely up to you,” I said. “I can either be some kid you never speak to again or I can be the reason your weak asshole becomes everyone’s favorite topic of conversation.”
Her hands curled into tight fists.
“Your call.” I leaned towards her again and lowered my voice. “But a word of advice, don’t pit yourself against someone who has nothing to lose. Because taking you down would make my summer.”
She swallowed.
“Have a fun swim!” I said, recalling the counselor’s patronizing words as I backed away. “Oh, and while you’re out there, don’t forget to enjoy the fact that nobody’s staring at your ass and whispering about whether you’re gonna have another accident.”
Tori’s red face didn’t spew another word.
“What did you say?” Gemma asked when I rejoined her at the foot of the skinny tree.
“Nothing she didn’t deserve.”
Her nervous eyes searched mine. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” I said, nodding towards the lake. “Shall we?”
She smiled and bounced a shoulder against mine, nudging me towards the sandy beach.
And as we strolled down to the water’s edge, I could’ve sworn I was seven feet tall.
T W E N T Y S I X
- Gemma -
The whole thing was completely surreal.
I mean, I didn’t know yet if being the boss of Pump’s Glenview location was my dream, but I certainly felt a lot closer to the other things I knew I wanted, things like financial security, job satisfaction, and improved benefits.
Unfortunately, my head was all over the place after I talked to Jimmy, which is why I asked if he’d hold down the fort while I bought lunch for everybody and considered how I would break the news.
When the time came, the words didn’t come out exactly as I’d rehearsed in the car. I engaged in more nervous hand-clutching than I planned, for instance, and looked at Alex more than I intended to, as the tangible support in his eyes felt like a much-needed crutch.
But I think I got the message across that I was honored to assume my new position. And much to my relief, the whole team seemed delighted, though I sensed that a lot of their enthusiasm stemmed from the fact that Mary was gone. Regardless, it still felt like a vote of confidence.
After toasting with our sodas (which funnily enough felt as naughty as drinking alcohol considering our profession), there was a contagious feeling of optimism amongst the team, which made me more determined than ever not to let them down.
It was a tricky challenge, though—going from being their pal to being their boss—and I knew it. The best I could hope for was that I’d done enough to earn their respect in the past that they would let me lead them into the future.
Naturally, I was conscious that I had to toe the line between carrying myself more professionally and not seeming too big for my britches, but I knew I wanted the team to sense my ambition out the gates.
I just wasn’t sure how.
But as I waited in line to buy lunch for the team that afternoon, wracking my brain for who I could channel as a muse, for who I could look to as the most confident, clear communicating person I’d ever met, it finally hit me…
I was two weeks from turning seven the day my mom left, but I remember it like it was yesterday. She’d been out of rehab for less than forty-eight hours, and her eyes were so clear, her speech so articulate. I remember thinking she wasn’t my real mom. Not the mom I was used to, anyway.
I was drawing all of us as a happy family on my blue Fisher Price easel, including the small puppy I not-so-secretly wanted for my birthday, when she called my dad and me into the sitting room and asked us to sit down. She had a small black suitcase by her feet, and her shoes were already on.
Then, as if she were explaining something as unemotional as the theory of gravity, she said she was leaving forever, that we’d never hear from her again, and that there was nothing we could say to change her mind.
Looking back, I wish I hadn’t just sat there listening. I wish I’d understood the gravity of the situation, that I’d had the wherewithal to realize what growing up without a mom would mean for me. For my dad.
But I was still half-convinced she was a robot, as her sobriety made her seem so foreign to me. So when my dad asked me to give them some privacy, I was relieved.
It never occurred to me that she would walk out without giving me a kiss goodbye.
That was the day I learned that just because somebody is supp
osed to love you doesn’t mean they can or will.
Even as an adult, I felt strangely detached from the whole thing, as if it wasn’t my mom that left that day, but the stranger she became after she broke her addiction to opioids.
It was an addiction that started innocently enough after she twisted her back one day while we were playing. It was the first time it ever occurred to me that I might be overweight.
I never figured out why I handled her leaving so well. Perhaps it was because, on some level, I knew my dad and I had enjoyed a peace we’d never known when she went to rehab. Yes, I felt guilty for thinking that, but I was only a kid. What kid would miss someone that spent all their time either yelling at them or ignoring them?
My dad didn’t take it as well, but that’s because he believed the woman he fell in love with was still in there, whereas I could barely remember that woman and therefore never held out such hope.
Still, that speech she gave in the sitting room was the most convincing show of confidence I’d ever seen from anyone. So, ironically, it was that same self-assuredness I aimed to channel when I told my friends and colleagues that I wouldn’t be abandoning them, that I would be fighting harder than ever to make the way they spent their days meaningful and enjoyable.
And I meant every word.
And it felt good.
In fact, it felt far better than abandoning them that morning had felt, which made me wonder if my mom ever regretted what she did, even for a moment.
Then again, I didn’t even know if she was alive.
All I knew was that I was, and like her, I’d been given a second chance to be there for my family.
And unlike her, I wasn’t going to blow it.
T W E N T Y S E V E N
- Alex -
I was wiping down the front desk when I saw André heading towards the door.
“Your girl did good today,” he said, raising his fist to pound mine on the way out.
“I’m not the one you should be telling,” I said, realizing it was the second time today that someone had referenced her like that and the second time I hadn’t felt compelled to correct them. It was a strange sensation. Not unpleasant, though. Like pride, but softer.
“Yeah, but she’s no good with compliments.”
“Anyone left on the floor?”
“Only you,” he said, flipping the sign in the window over so the “Closed” side faced the parking lot. “See you tomorrow.”
I lifted a hand as he walked out before hitting the row of switches under the desk and watching the overhead lights go out in sections over the main floor. Then I went to knock on the door of Gemma’s new office.
She answered with a cheerful, “Come in.”
I entered to find her bent over a bunch of papers spread across her desk.
She lifted her face first and straightened up when she saw it was me. “Hey.”
“Am I interrupting?”
“No.” She waved my concern away. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to say congratulations again on your well-earned promotion.”
She shook her head like she couldn’t quite believe it herself. “I couldn’t have dreamed this earlier today.”
Something about the glowing satisfaction on her face made me think of the board. About Jimmy saying they were miserable worrying about their job security. What if they could all like their jobs as much as Gemma loved hers? What if some of them already did? Fuck.
She leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath.
I considered making a light joke about the underwear thing but thought better of it. “I could’ve,” I said, stepping up to her desk.
She cocked her head.
“You being the boss. Telling me what to do and when to do it. Anytime you want.”
Her eyes dropped to my waistband for a split second before she tore them away and started tidying her workspace.
I wanted her so bad I could taste it.
“Attracted to power, are you?” she asked, stacking her papers.
“No,” I said. “Just you.”
She swallowed.
“What’s all this?” I asked, glancing down her shirt until my cock jumped.
“Boss stuff,” she said, smiling and flicking her eyes up at me.
“Gemma, about last night.”
She froze.
“I’m not sorry.”
She pressed her lips together.
“I hope your promotion doesn’t—”
“I lost my sense last night,” she said.
My mind flashed back to her panting chest, to the way it looked glistening with sweat through the thick steam.
“And today I almost lost my job as a result.” Silence enveloped us before she spoke again. “I need you to give me some time.”
“Gemma—”
“I know the timing is terrible.”
“Time is the one thing I don’t want to give you.” I rested my fingertips on the edge of her desk, wishing it were her soft skin I was touching, her smooth lips. “Please. Anything but time.”
Her lips twitched like I hadn’t seen them do before.
I walked around the desk.
She didn’t turn towards me, but she didn’t back away either.
My pulse quickened as I stepped up to her. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”
“Don’t,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Please. Don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”
“Your promotion doesn’t change anything between us.”
Her eyes fell closed as she sighed.
“Look at me.”
She turned her face away.
I took a knee beside her chair. “Gemma.”
She turned and looked at me, her eyes laced with remorse.
“I’m on your side,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “I want you to succeed more than anyone.”
“Just for a little while,” she said, her eyes dropping to my lips. “Just while I learn the ropes.”
I leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped me with her hand.
My molten heart cooled.
“It’s not that I don’t want you,” she said, her eyes pleading with me. “It’s not that.”
I was too stunned by the face-palm to say anything.
“I just don’t want to blow the biggest opportunity of my life.”
What does that make me?
She must’ve seen my expression change because she tried to backpedal immediately. “That didn’t come out right,” she said. “I just meant that I can’t handle the distraction.”
I stood up and stepped back. “No one’s ever called me a distraction before.”
“Alex, don’t be like that.”
“It’s cool,” I said, feeling anything but as I raised my palms. “You’re the boss.”
“Alex—”
But I slammed her office door before she could hurt me any more.
T W E N T Y E I G H T
- Gemma -
“So,” my dad said, scooping some mash onto his plate. “What’s the big news?”
I grabbed a piece of fried chicken from the bucket between us and glanced at my napkin, wondering if I should squeeze the drumstick in it to mop up some grease. I resolved to have a soup day tomorrow instead.
“I’ll guess!” he said, scooting the takeout tub of mash my way across the wooden table he built when I was a kid. “Still solid as a rock,” he’d say, patting it from time to time. “And sanded to perfection,” he’d add with a wink. I remember how terrified I’d been using that electric sander, how I always preferred sanding by hand. That way you never made any irreversible mistakes…
“You found an apartment,” he said, oblivious to the mash stuck in his mustache.
“No,” I said, already wishing we weren’t playing this game.
“You met someone.”
“Dad.”
“You met someone?!” His face lifted. He was so eager for me to find love, which I found both sweet and
annoying.
“No.”
“You worked things out with Ray.”
“Definitely not,” I said, hoping my dad would intuit that the mere mention of his name annoyed me.
“Are you sure you didn’t meet someone?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.”
I sighed. “I thought I did, but it’s come to nothing,” I said, thinking of how distant Alex had been all week. I knew I should be happy that he’d respected my need for time and space, but I hadn’t thought it would be this hard.
Before the end of my first full day as the boss, I missed him, and by the end of the week, I started making up excuses to talk to him, running my ideas about the gym by him and asking for feedback.
Blind encouragement was the only way to describe his responses. And the warmth I’d come to expect from him had all but disappeared, replaced by an estranged politeness that, to put it mildly, sucked ass. Frankly, I couldn’t tell if I was disappointed or flattered by how hard he’d taken my rejection.
Why the hell hadn’t I just let him kiss me? It’s not like I didn’t want him to!
“What happened?” my dad asked, grabbing another piece of crispy chicken.
“Can you keep trying to guess the good news?”
“I give up,” he said, taking a big bite.
“I got a promotion.”
His eyes lit up as he swallowed. “Congratulations, honey!”
I smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“It’s about damn time. You’ve been running that place for ages.”
“It was a lucky break. Nothing more.”
“You don’t have to be modest around me,” he said. “I know what a hard worker you are.”
I took a sip of water.
“You get that from your old man.”
“It’s a lot more responsibility,” I said.
“And a lot more money, I hope?” He raised his bushy brows.
“That, too.”
“I didn’t ask that because I can’t pay you back,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you’re being fairly compensated.”
“I know, Dad. And I am. Plus, my benefits are better, too.”
“God knows your hours couldn’t be worse, so I won’t even bother asking.”
