Page 60 of All Our Almosts

“And… you’re not going to kick me out?” A bit of genuine nervousness creeps into my tone. “Because I really can’t afford rent on my own. I’m so sorry if this whole thing is making you uncomfortable, but I really need this apartment, Andy, and I’m not afraid to beg.”

“No, of course not. See this is why I shouldn’t…” He takes a centering breath, then meets my eyes. “I’m sorry you were worried about that. I would never kick you out. You live here now. I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

I want to put a period at the end of this interaction. Start a new paragraph, a new page. Draw dark lines under it in red and black, then lose track of it in the massive tome of our history. So I paste on a neutral smile and ask, “Friends?”

He almost-smiles, no dimple in sight. “Friends.”

But then, as I stand and head towards my room, Andy calls, “Wait—Soph?”

My heart shifts into second gear as I turn back. “Yeah?”

“Don’t get back together with him.”

I study him—the hard set of his jaw, the almost sorrowful tilt to his brow—then ask, “Why?”

He whispers, “Just don’t.”

His expression is layered and pained and it makes me wish I could reach into his chest and rip out his heart, looking for brutal honesty next to my name in all the pulsing atria. But I can’t. So I just say, “Okay.”

18

I did not plan on going to the Garment District tonight, but it’s my last hope. This morning I realized I have nothing to wear to the exhibit launch event tomorrow, but it’s not like I could take the day off work to go shopping, and now that I’m free the mall is already closed so… here we go.

This whole week has been a blur, to be honest. It feels like I’ve been hungover from the weekend for five days. But not literally, physically hungover. More like… emotionally hungover? I swear, I’m only 26 but I’m already too old for this level of drama. Seeing Elliot, messing up my arm, kissing Andy, then having to talk to Andy about kissing Andy… it’s enough to knock my brain straight into next week.

And my reward for surviving it all? The Garment District.

If you’ve never heard of the Garment District, just know it’s best known for selling rumpled clothing by the pound instead of by the item—a real Boston gem.

My anxiety ratchets up with each step of the walk there.

Fortunately, Lia’s already waiting by the door when I arrive. Together, we beeline through the hot pink walls, past the racks of faux fur coats and cut-off jorts, beneath the oversized cut-out of Dolly Parton’s head and a tenuously mounted motorcycle, and into the so-called ‘professional women’s apparel’ section.

“It has to be at least knee-length, and ideally I want something that totally covers my arm bandage, so no cap sleeves or sleeveless.”

“What about this?” Lia pulls out a fitted red dress with a pencil skirt and a sweetheart neckline.

“Oh wow, yes! That’s perfect for my Jessica Rabbit cosplay. That’s why we’re here, right?”

“Point taken.” She returns the dress to the rack. “Do you know what your work friends are wearing?”

“No, I should have asked. I’ve felt so frazzled all week that it didn’t cross my mind.” I start sifting through a line of heinous gingham frocks as I add, “Oh but actually, speaking of the event, I can bring a guest if you’re free. It’s tomorrow at 7:30 and there’s an open bar. I will have to schmooze for some percent of the time, but after my remarks are done we’d be free to drink champagne on the company’s dime.”

“Ooh, I’m sorry Soph, I can’t.” Lia pulls out a green dress with long, puffy sleeves and holds it up in front of me. I shake my head and she puts it back. “I’m supposed to go live with my embroidery classes at the same time every week so that the algorithm will pick it up. I’ve been doing Fridays at 7.”

“That’s okay,” I shrug. “I’ll be brave and go stag.”

“Why don’t you ask Andy to go with you?”

Hearing his name feels like a glass breaking in my chest. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Things have just been kind of weird since the whole kiss thing.”

“The whole kiss thing,” Lia mocks. “You mean when your long-time best friend mauled your face out of nowhere?”

“I told you it wasn’t like that.”