But then he started skipping classes. What started as an occasional thing became a habit, and the random fill-in for the band became permanent. After the end of our first semester, he decided to drop out and pursue music full-time, without considering the consequences of losing his housing and all financial aid. For the past four months, he’d been crashing on his bandmate’s couch because he couldn’t afford a place on his own. His parents had been so upset when he came home and told them, but what could they do? There was no way to force him to re-enroll. At the end of the day, they wanted him to be happy, and he told them it was what he wanted.
With his focus on music, our relationship suddenly felt like more of a chore than a treat. I spent most of my time trying to fit my schedule into his, which proved nearly impossible. Whenever we did get together, we were usually at some dive bar on Sixth Street, where I often felt like an outlier, or having hurriedsex in the front seat of his truck before I walked back to my dorm. Anytime Rachel invited us to hang out, it seemed like Grady always had an excuse as to why he couldn’t go. Or when he agreed to go, he would show up hours after he said he would. I heard the same excuse every time. “Sorry, babe. I got held up with the band.”
I tried to be understanding. Really, I did. After all, if the situation were reversed, I would want him to support me the same way I tried to support him. But after nearly a year of fighting for his attention, I couldn’t help but wonder when I was going to be a priority again. The thought alone made me feel selfish, but I hated having to ask for his time and attention when he used to give it so freely.
“Miss?” I glanced up, meeting the annoyed stare of the waiter who’d come by to check on me no less than fifteen times. “I’m sorry, but?—”
“He’s going to be here,” I insisted, fisting my hands on top of the table. “He’s just running late.”
“It’s an hour past your reservation,” he said, loud enough to pique the interest of the couples around me. “We simply can’t hold the table any longer. I’ve already gone against our policy to let you wait this long.”
“Please… Just five more minutes,” I mumbled, turning pleading eyes his way. “He said he was going to be here.”
The man sighed. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask you to leave.” The way he held his hand out toward the door told me there was no reasoning with him. Honestly, it was foolish to even try. Even though he never said it, I could tell what he was thinking, and he was right.
Grady wasn’t coming.
“Alright.” Reaching down, I gathered my purse and looped it over my shoulder. I kept my head down and held onto the strap as though it would save me from the awkward glances around the room, even though I felt every single one bore into me asthough they could see the fragile state of my readily breaking heart.
Tears blurred my vision, making it nearly impossible to make out the waiter carrying a tray until it was too late. It felt like it happened in slow motion. Our bodies collided, and marinara sauce splashed down the front of my bright blue dress as the plate landed at my feet. It shattered, sending shards of white porcelain in every direction. The sound echoed off the high ceilings and marble floors, drawing everyone’s attention to the spot where I stood.
“ I-I’m so sorry,” I muttered, bending down to help pick up the broken pieces. “It was an accident?—”
The waiter looked up, and I recognized him from one of my classes, though I had no idea what his name was. He glanced at the sauce now staining my dress and began profusely apologizing. “Oh, no. That was my bad. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention?—”
“Miss? Let me help you out,” the hostess said, coming over with my coat slung over her arm. She ushered me to step over the broken dish, wrapping her arm around me until we reached the entrance. As if this night couldn’t get any more embarrassing, now I was being physically escorted out of one of the nicest restaurants I’d ever been in.
I looked around for a place to sit and wait, but each seat was full of waiting patrons who turned up their noses at my distress. The girl glanced over my shoulder to a bench that was half covered by an awning just outside the building.
Point taken.
I pushed open the door, stepping out into the torrential downpour, and took a seat. The wooden slats were still wet, but I guessed it didn’t really matter, seeing as I was covered in spaghetti sauce anyway. The brand-new dress I’d bought just last weekend was ruined. Even if I could save it, I wasn’t sure Iwanted to. There wasn’t much about today I wanted to remember.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring out into the busy Austin streets. Headlights illuminated the sidewalk as cars drove by, and people scurried from building to building to get out of the rain. Music from nearby bars floated out, accompanied by laughter from couples, making me feel even more alone than I had when I left the restaurant.
“Hey! I’m so sorry I’m late.” I shifted my gaze to see Grady running up with a big smile on his face. He was completely soaked; his dark band tee and blond hair plastered against his skin. “The band and I?—”
“Let me guess…” I mumbled, staring down at my hands. “You lost track of time.”
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, we’re working on a new song and hit a groove. You ready to eat? I’m starving.” He gestured toward the restaurant and held out his hand for me to take.
I glanced between it and his face. “The reservation was for six, Grady.”
He winced, checking his watch to see how late he was. “I know. I’m so sorry, Cleo. Let me make it up to you.”
“I waited alone at our table for over an hour,” I said, pushing to my feet. “People gawked at me when I told the waiters you were coming and begged them not to kick me out. Do you understand how humiliating that was?”
He glanced at my dress, seeing the large stain down the front. “What happened?”
I wasn’t sure why the question made me snap, but it did. All the sad, pitiful feelings I’d experienced moments ago gave way to anger, and all I saw was red. I felt so stupid, waiting in the goddamn rain like some love-sick fool.
I stood up and pushed past him, heading out into the rain. He called my name as I stomped down the sidewalk, but Iignored it. I needed to get out of here. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Why did I wait? Why did I let him see me like this?
His fingers found my arm, and he tugged me back. “Cleo, hey! Where are you going?”
“Let me go, Grady,” I said quietly, looking down at our point of contact.
He shook his head. For the first time tonight, I saw real fear in his eyes. Like he knew he’d made a cataclysmic mistake that was about to change the trajectory of his life. I wondered if he saw that same fear in mine. “Bluebird, please?—”
