Lex leans over the bed protectively, her hands outstretched to push me away if needed.
I take a step back. Then another. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to!”
Olsen lifts a hand, stopping me. “It’s fine. It was an accident.” Even now, after everything that’s happened, his gaze is warm and kind.
Lex’s, on the other hand, not so much. Which is fair; I shouldn’t be here. I wanted to make sure he was okay, and I have. Olsen deserves to be free of me and this dreadful curse. I gesture with my thumb over my shoulder. “You know what? I should go. It’s been a long night. You’re tired.” I begin walking backward toward the door. “And I have to go pick up my dog. Poor thing’s probably worried sick about me. You rest up, and, uh... call me?”
His eyebrows lower. “You never gave me your phone number.”
“Never mind. That’s... for the best. I’m gonna skedaddle.” I cringe at myself. “Good luck with your penis.”Oh my god, stop talking.
Olsen smiles, as if this whole fiasco was entertaining in some macabre way.
“And, Lex, good luck with—” I gesture vaguely at her nose “—all that.”
Lex subtly shakes her head.
I limp down the hall as quickly as I can. This is it. The last time I date. Seriously, I’m done.
It’s not worth the pain.
chapter three
The Curse’s Continued Humiliation
After spending half the night in the hospital, I probably should have taken the day off, but it’s a new job and I’m still on probation and I don’t want to risk losing it. It’s rare you find a job like mine, where you’re actually making the world a better place and you look forward to going into the office every day—even if that means taking the hour-long SkyTrain trip all the way from Langley into Vancouver to the dingy little office I’ve been calling home for the past three months. Kindness Forward is a non-profit organization that works to implement anti-bullying campaigns and create safe spaces in schools from kindergarten all the way up through grade twelve. We have different teams working specifically for neurodiversity, disabilities, marginalized cultures and ethnicities, and LGBTQIA+ youth. I’m on Team Rainbow, as we like to call it.
I’d applied for my role as a fundraiser months ago on a whim, one of those “close your eyes, press submit, and hope for the best even though you’re underqualified and have no hopes ofgetting the job” things. Lo and behold, they picked me out of the stack and brought me in for an interview. Thank fuck there wasn’t a romantic spark between me and my boss, Ebele, because the interview was totallynotawkward and couldn’t have gone better. She hired me a week later and offered me a meagre salary—not enough for me to afford rent downtown and be close to work, but enough for me to move back to lower mainland BC and out of Alberta. I loved my time at the University of Calgary, but the weather was awful. I couldn’t adapt to the intense heat of summer, hellish cold snaps, and unpredictable chinooks. Coming back to the long season of dreary rain will be an adjustment, but at least it’s familiar.
Since my return to BC, I’ve been helping Team Rainbow work on their project to implement meditation and mindfulness in schools in hopes that it would reduce bullying. It’s been a very fun and rewarding three months. I’ve learned a lot. Though, as far as what I bring to the team, I can’t say I’m pulling my weight.
I have a business degree. I know fuck-all about mindfulness, unlike the other amazing women I work with.
On my team is Yoga Linda, a fifty-year-old instructor with golden skin and long grey hair locked and braided with colourful beads and threads. She wears naturally dyed hemp dresses almost exclusively. Linda took her yoga training in India thirty years ago, has taught classes all over the world, and during our lunchtime intermural yoga sessions she folds herself right in half! I can barely touch my toes.
Also on the team is Sound Bath Samantha, a round white woman around Linda’s age with curly red hair, thick glasses, and permanently rosy cheeks thanks to rosacea, who originally had a degree in some sort of musical therapy but then discovered the power of crystal sound bowls. She works with us during the day but makes most of her money hosting workshops, cleansing people’s chakras and energies with the power of frequency. I went to one once hoping it could work some magic on my curse, but alas, it was not to be. I had a great sleep, though.
And the last person on my team, freshly graduated out of UVic with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a minor in gender studies is—
“Jasleen! Hi! Any plans for the weekend?” I say as I grab a mug from the cupboard in the lunchroom and set it in the Keurig.
Jasleen purses her pretty, full lips in a half-smile. “Oh, you know, more of the same.” Her brown skin is clear and glowing like she just got a thousand-dollar facial at a spa. “I have a 10k tonight after work with a few friends,” she says. “I’m going to try to beat my best time, 36:42! And then we’re going out to Celebrities.”
I have no idea what good time is for a 10k. I don’t think I could even run a mile. And who does that on a Friday night? “Celebrities, that sounds fun. I tried to go there once but the lineup was crazy.” I remove my mug from the machine and step backward to let Jasleen in.
“You’re supposed to remove the pod after,” she says, raising an eyebrow.
“Oops. Sorry.” I reach for it, but she’s already popped the machine open. She lifts the pod out with two long perfectly manicured pink fingernails and holds it away from her body, as if it’s contaminated. Jasleen drops it into the bin, dusts off her hands, and then adds a capsule for green tea before pressing the button. “You had to stand in line for Celebrities?” She tilts her head. “They always let us right in.”
Of course they do.
She tosses her hair over her shoulder.How the hell is it so thick and shiny?“I’m meeting a guy there. We had the best date last weekend! He drove me to Whistler in his Porsche and we haddinner at Il Caminetto, and oh my god that was the best carpaccio I’ve ever eaten.”
“Sounds divine.”So happy that you can go on a date and not end up in the ER.
“And then,” she continues, “on Sunday I’ll do my eight a.m. Pilates class, probably hit the markets, go thrifting. The usual.”
“Sounds like a perfect weekend,” I say, trying to keep the envy out of my voice.
