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Distance, I thought again. Maybe Spencer was right. Maybe my feelings were just, I don’t know. Life had been hard of late, and Spencer was easy. Spencer felt good when nothing else did. Maybe I’d seen that, that easy escape, and I’d latched onto it for more than it was. A fresh start in New York might be just what I needed.
A wave of dizziness swept over me and I leaned on the railing. I shut my eyes tight, fighting vertigo. My head spun, my guts churned, and I swallowed back acid. Was this a panic attack? Would I faint and fall over?
My dizziness passed as fast as it hit me. I straightened up, blinking, and heard the door close behind me. Lola came up to stand with me at the railing.
“I’m guessing you got that job.”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah.” I hadn’t told her about the one in New York, only the one I’d found here in town. It made me sad to picture my mornings without her — me, her, and Cherie at the café downstairs. We always met there for coffee, and to catch up on gossip. If I took Donna’s offer, we could still do that. If I went to New York… maybe I could Zoom in? A lonely feeling welled up, a lump in my throat. I might Zoom in a few times, but it wouldn’t last. These things never did, not for the long haul.
“It’s the right move,” Lola said. “You’re better than this place.”
I snorted at that. “Better than you?”
She swatted my arm. “Better than that boys’ club and the way they treat you. It’s one thing for me. I’m only HR. But you’re competition, and you’re amazing. They’d never have let you shine as you should.”
“You think?”
“I know.” She looked out over the city, squinting into the sun. “Look, it’s almost quitting time. Let’s go grab some dinner. We can dig into your offer, figure out what to do.”
I followed her gaze over the rooftops, out to the glimmer of the Rio Grande. This was my home, where my memories lived. Where I’d grown up, where I’d had all my firsts. And it was where Lola lived, and Leon. And Spencer.
I turned away, scowling. Spencer had made his choice, and it wasn’t me. I couldn’t let him come into what I did next. It had to be my choice. What was best for me.
“Come on,” said Lola. “Don’t be that way. We’ll hit that Italian place, y’know, with the meatballs? Those great, huge, juicy ones, all dripping with red sauce.”
My stomach flipped over so suddenly I almost gagged. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. I staggered, dizzy, and Lola caught my arm.
“Iz? You okay?”
I groped for the chair that should’ve been behind me. Someone had moved it, and it wasn’t there. I half-fell and smacked into the edge of the doorframe. My funny bone twinged and I grabbed it, groaning. I sank down where I stood, on my knees on the concrete.
“Ew, no, don’t sit there! The pigeons, the mess…”
I scrambled back upright, and found my way to the chair. Lola hovered over me, flapping around.
“What’s happening, you sick? Should I get you some water?”
I shook my head, my nausea already passing. It had come out of nowhere at the thought of that red sauce — at the thought of eating at all, of looking at food. I was full up with butterflies, and not the good kind. The anxious, might-puke kind. I swallowed them back.
Lola touched my forehead. “Ugh. You feel clammy.”
“I think I’m just stressed,” I said. “But, yeah, dinner’s out. I do want to talk to you, but my stomach’s all bleh.”
Lola pulled an ew face. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll text you.” I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to peer through the cracks in the blinds. “Do you still see Jim in there?”
Lola cracked the door open and shook her head. “No. I don’t see Mark, either. I think they’re with Stern.”
“I’m going to sneak out, then. It’s after five, right?”
“Six thirty,” said Lola. “Go on, you’re good.”
I scurried out of the office, feeling furtive somehow. Like I was sneaking out, as I’d said to Lola. But I’d come in early and I was leaving late. Maybe it was that I’d soon be quitting, and nobody knew it except me and Lola. I hadn’t even told Cherie, though I guessed I soon would. As soon as I figured out where I was headed.
Jim had pig-parked me, boxed me into my spot, so it took me forever to edge my way out. I was tempted to clip him and smash his taillight, but I’d ding my car too, and Jim wasn’t worth it. Once I got moving, I felt a lot better, my window cracked open, fresh air in my face. My nausea had faded, and my dizziness too, and that weird, niggling headache that’d been bugging me all day. I was probably PMSing, probably just…
My brain shorted out as I stopped for a light. PMS, yeah, that felt right. Except, it didn’t quite. The timing was off. I’d bought tampons weeks ago, knowing I’d soon need them… only, I hadn’t.
