“No,” he agrees with anger in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t seem to want to talk about it the other night. As for before that…my ex is one of the worst things that’s happened around here. It’s not easy starting introductions with the biggest mistake you ever made being so well known. But it also happened ten years ago, and I’m trying to get on with my life as much as I can. And you and I had only talked a handful of times.”
He frowns.
“I like you, Noah. I like to think I would have told you sooner rather than later. But the truth is, I don’t know. People don’t tend to hang around long after they find out. I guess what I am saying is you’re right to be angry, or however you’re feeling. Not that you need my permission.”
He doesn’t say a word.
“There was something between us, wasn’t there?”
“Yeah,” he answers eventually. The truth is I barely know him, but losing the idea of him hurts. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I walk away.
Hana texts me the next morning.
Hana: Amateur photography group meets at the brewery near you once a month.
Me: That could be cool.
Hana: You should go.
Me: But people.
Hana: People need to get over themselves and get used to you. Something that’s never going to happen if you keep hiding at home.
Me: Harsh but fair.
Hana: Ask your neighbor to go with you.
Me: He found out about me. Wasn’t happy.
Hana: Shitty.
Me: Yeah.
Hana: Did you know female raccoons are monogamous but males are polygamous?
Me: No. Random but fascinating. No wonder they often seem angry and prone to violence.
Hana: I know, right?
Hana: My point is you can’t trust men to make good choices.
Me: So sad.
Hana: Why are men?
Me: We may never know.
Me: When does the photography group meet? Just out of interest…
There’s a store on Pine Street I’ve had my eye on forever. Any time I drive past, I check out the windows. The aesthetic is minimal and modern. Though they stock cute stuff too. Dresses, tops, and bottoms that are feminine without being overly frilly. Other people walk into shops all the time. It shouldn’t be a big deal. But I sit in my parked car for half an hour before working up the nerve to enter. Which is ridiculous.
I want my life back, or some semblance of it. Things are never going to be like they were. My grandmother is gone, and certain people think I am a murderer or accessory to the same. Nothing I can do about it. What I can do is stop skulking about the fringes of society like I am actually guilty.
There’s a long list of things I used to do. Watch movies and go dancing and hang out with friends. Hana is right about how me hiding at home achieves nothing. My face was everywhere when Ryan was arrested, and all throughout the trial, I tried to respect people’s feelings and stay out of sight. But after almost a decade, I seem to have reached my limit for behaving like an outcast and being blamed for something I did not do. Anger at the situation with Noah might also have pushed me into doing this today. Stupid men, stupid hearts, stupid loins, etcetera.
Though some fixing up of my self is long overdue.
