Page 41 of Already Falling

“Ya know, our kitchen is only fifty square feet, and I’d really love to make some breakfast.”

This seems to perk Dane up as he yanks himself away from Chloe and turns to me. Chloe adjusts her legs and sets her head on his shoulder.

“Good morning to you too, Ally. Got enough ingredients to make breakfast for two more?”

He and Chloe both give me puppy-dog eyes, and maybe I’d consider it if it weren’t for the fact that he called me Ally.

“Sorry, Derek, I’m vegetarian, and I don’t like to share.”

Dane flinches back either at me calling him Derek or that I’m vegetarian, I can’t tell. “My name is Dane. I’ve known you for six years, Ally.”

And I truly can’t hold back my laughter at the irony of his statement, which offends him immensely because he storms out of the kitchen.

Chloe is still sitting on the counter, giving me a frowning pout. She knows I don’t like Dane. I really don’t know how this happened. When they first dated in college, he seemed fine, and the fact that he spoiled my best friend and made her happy was all I cared about. But now, like he said, it’s been six years, and I’ve seen them break up and get back together probably five times already. It’s exhausting, and I don’t think it’s the best for Chloe. She is the best person in my life. She is the sunshine to my storm cloud and deserves to have someone who basks in her light, not block it. I don’t want to see her like she was in middle school when her dad left. She deserves someone who is completely obsessed with her. Dane is comfortable with her, but she deserves so much better than him.

“Dane knows your name, and he’s just joking,” she responds with a hop off the counter.

“I really don’t think he does. He calls me the wrong name every time he sees me. It’s pretty pathetic, I’m the closest person in your life, and he can’t even get my name right?” I get an eye roll response at that, and she tries to shuffle out of the kitchen to avoid any more of my sass. “Hey, wait, are we still on for the museum later?” She slides to a halt.

“Oh…was that today?” She turns to me, grimacing. “It’s just that Dane is revealing his new drink at the cafe today, and he wants me there for support.”

I can’t help my mouth from falling open. She’s ditching me to watch her boyfriend make lattes? Is this what our friendship has come to? Putting our on and off again boyfriends in front of our friendship of literally over fifteen years? Although I shouldn’t be surprised, she did this to me two weeks ago when I wanted to try out a new coffee shop. She said Dane would never speak to her again if she stepped foot in another coffee shop. I laughed at that until I realized she was being serious. This whole charade is tiring.

She’s never put a guy before our friendship before. This might be a good sign that they are actually starting to get serious and commit to one another. The sinking feeling in my chest is trying to convince me otherwise, however. He’s going to do something idiotic, and I’m going to be left wiping Chloe’s tears. I am about to open my mouth in protest when all the energy to try drains from me. What is even the point? I shouldn’t have to persuade my best friend to hang out with me.

“Got it, of course, that’s today.” I’m trying so hard not to be overly passive-aggressive, but it’s hard, so I just turn and prepare a breakfast sandwich. Chloe doesn’t say another word, and instead, I hear her shuffle away and her bedroom door close. I guess I’ll have another solo weekend. No big deal…

The museum was spectacular. A part of me is grateful I was alone so I could spend as much time standing in front of a photo staring longingly at it. I love putting myself in the artist’s shoes. Picturing what they did that day before taking the photo. Was it just a normal day for them? Did they go to work at a boring job and, on the way home, snap a photo? Or was it a planned photo scout? What did it feel like to hold the camera in their hands and hold it up just at the perfect moment to capture the art?

I wandered through the exhibit for over an hour, soaking up each interesting piece. It featured art from photographers in Paris, shot between the 1930s and the 1970s. There was something so romantic about the photos. I loved seeing the Parisian fashion and the settings from so long ago. There was a particular photo I couldn’t tear my eyes from. They had a few by Robert Doisneau and his most notable—a couple embraced in a kiss while the streets of Paris hustled around them. The juxtaposition between stillness and foot traffic was so fascinating. Despite the rumors that it might’ve been staged, there’s just something so captivating about the couple. I spent at least twenty minutes digesting the black-and-white photo.

Life seemed both simpler and more complicated back then. I wonder if it ever gets easier. There were moments I wish I had someone with me to share what I loved about certain pieces. I missed Chloe. She would never protest if I wanted to linger a bit longer. I ended up checking out some of the painting exhibits as well and bought her a sunflower pin from the museum shop.

Eager to give it to her and share my favorite pieces, I swing open our apartment door to find Dane’s naked ass in clear view while he’s grinding into Chloe on our couch.

Our communal couch.

The one in our living room.

Where I sit and read and eat snacks.

I’m going to have to burn this couch now. I don’t think I’ll be able to sit on it again without having the mental image of Dane and Chloe in the nude tangled around each other. I slam the front door and bolt into my room, not wanting to witness the front view of Dane but hoping they stop to realize how inappropriate they are being. Chloe has a couch in her room. Why can’t they use that one instead? I don’t have the energy anymore. Maybe I need to get my own place. Their relationship is affecting my mental health.

I feel so guilty about it. I should be happy for Chloe, but I'm not. I’m bitter. I want her to find someone else who’s not an asshole. I want to find someone I can be so enamored with. Next time it’s just Chloe and me alone, I’m going to bring up the idea of us living apart. The thought of living away from her feels scary, but maybe it’s what she and Dane need if they are getting serious about their relationship.

TWENTY-ONE

ANNIKA

It’s a Thursday evening. I should be sitting in my apartment, reading, watching a movie, or literally anything else besides sitting in my cubicle at work. It’s after seven, and I’m frantically typing up a marketing outline for a new client we are hoping to get. Even though I don’t care about this client, I’m still here after hours. Because I was guilted into staying longer. I want to be promoted so I can make more money and work less. My manager dangled this promotion in front of my face when she asked me to stay after and finish the draft that we will present tomorrow. Everything was last minute, and the worst part of it is, this client isn’t even huge. They are an indie brand that has barely been gaining momentum. Don’t get me wrong, I think they could totally use the marketing help, but it doesn’t need to involve me working overtime so we can present at the last minute.

I hear a buzz from my tote bag, and my heart drops. I had a scheduled client tonight for headshots, and I completely forgot. I grab my phone and swipe open my messages.

Client

Hi, I’m just checking to see if we are still on? I haven’t heard anything from you.

Annika