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How could my father be so hateful? “Dental school was your dream, not mine! Don’t make me feel bad because I did something that would make me happy!”
“You think jobs are supposed to make you happy? It’s a job! People your age are all the damn same.”
“What are you talking about?” I roared.
“You think the world owes you something.”
What?
“Natalie, you were not happy at the aquarium. You’ve wasted your education on a job that didn’t even pay well—”
I didn’t want to hear anymore. Grabbing my purse from the granite countertop, I stormed outside and got back into my car. The tires squealed as I backed out of there, determined not to come back for a long time. I could almost hear the conversation they must be having: She was always so spoiled, so ungrateful. We did everything for that girl, and she’s acting like such a baby.
The car soared on the highway. My phone screamed the whole way home, and I fought the urge to hurl it out of the window. If being right meant being miserable at my day job, I would choose wrong over right every damn time.
I was in a crappy mood by the time I arrived at my apartment—an apartment that always lowered my spirits whenever I crossed its threshold, because it was so dark and dingy. Little natural light made it through the windows and the carpet was disgusting. There was carpet everywhere, even in the bathroom. It drove me mad.
We need to move out of this place.
Jessica was perched on the leather couch that sat in our living room. It was brand new. Every time I saw it, I blinked at how out of place it looked. Her blonde hair gathered in a ponytail and she turned her head to look at me with a shrugging, sympathetic grimace on her face.
“Hey.”
Sighing, I joined her. “I went to my parents’ house.”
“Oh,” she said in a knowing voice.
“I don’t know why I keep going back there.”
“Sorry about your job.”
I waved her off in the same way that I waved off Janine at work. “I don’t care too much. Yeah, it’s a blow to my ego, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“Well, that’s good.” Her tonesuggested that she didn’t believe my indifference. “Luke came through. You have a date tomorrow in Berkeley.”
Oh, God.
The last thing I wanted was to go on a date.
“I don’t know.” My fingers plucked the leather armrest.
“I think you should go. It’ll take your mind off things. His name is Charlie. He’s really nice.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“You’ve got to force yourself to get out there. You’ll feel better eventually.”
“I’m going to look for jobs. You can text me his number.”
Exhaustion settled in my limbs.
Eventually.
Damn, was I tired of that word.
* * *
I chewed my lip as I searched the small, Ethiopian restaurant for Charlie. Having no idea what he looked like, my heart kept a frightening tempo behind my ribs.
