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It’s not an illness and I won’t let it become one.
I was the last of our gang to get out and when I did, feeling all lost and afraid, Renn called me up and asked me if I wanted to share an apartment with her. She said that she was trying this new independent healthy thing and she’d rather do it with me than alone. Of course, I said yes.
And frankly, I wasn’t ready to make a go at it alone anyway.
Something about stepping into the Outside world had scared me. Maybe it was the lack of structure.
On the Inside, everything is regimented. You follow a routine. You follow the rules. On the Inside, you’re the most important person, the most important aspect of your life. But on the Outside, priorities change. Things are chaotic, like the New York City streets in winter. Dirty and full of sludge and jam-packed with traffic.
It’s easy to lose your way. It’s easy to think you’re not good enough to navigate life. Every challenge is much harder on the Outside.
“Ruth wants me to date,” I tell the girls.
Honestly, I’m not sure if they’d even hear me. They are drunk and high as fuck. Even Penny, who doesn’t usually like to get under the influence. But it’s Friday and things are relaxed.
I don’t have qualms about getting drunk on Renn’s vodka and practically inhale Vi’s funny brownies, but tonight, I don’t want to. I’m not in the mood.
“Date who?” Renn asks from beside me, her voice all hoarse.
Pot makes her horny. It makes me horny too. It also makes me dream of him.
This is why I’ve chosen to remain sober. So I don’t dream of him tonight and touch myself and then cry. I need to take Ruth’s advice. I don’t even know why I’m not.
“Date whom.” That’s Penny in her giggling voice. “You’re such an illiterate cow.”
“You’re such an ugly hag,” Renn giggles.
Vi simply snorts.
Snorting myself, I shrug. “To answer Renn’s question, I don’t know. Someone. A guy.”
“Date a girl.” Renn sighs.
“What?”
“Yeah. Date a girl. Oh man, date a girl with like, big tits.”
I flip on my stomach to look at Renn. She’s running a finger up and down her chest and rubbing her thighs together. Her t-shirt is oversized but thin. Nothing much has changed in her wardrobe from when we were on the Inside. Except she doesn’t wear pants, only boy shorts, at least when she’s home.
“Is this the horniness talking?”
She shoots me a look. “It’s the loneliness talking.” Looking away, she continues, “I mean, how strange it is that I haven’t touched another woman’s tits and girly bits. Shouldn’t I know my own kind intimately? It’s a fucking tragedy.”
Vi flips on her stomach, too. “Or it could be the fact that you’re thinking about Tristan.”
Now, Vi? That girl has completely changed. Her hair’s pink, and instead of wearing drab and nondescript clothes like she did on the Inside, she now wears shorts like me and punk rock t-shirts. And she loves to bake. Especially brownies with pot.
We still don’t know what her exact story is or how her fiancé died, but I have a feeling we’ll know one day. When she’s ready to tell us. I’m not as frustrated about it as Renn sometimes gets, though.
Renn flips on her stomach too. “What?”
“It’s a valid conclusion.”
“How is it a valid conclusion?”
“When Willow came home from work last week and said that they’d gotten a new employee by the name of Christian, you heard Tristan, and you completely freaked out.”
“I did not!”
“You jumped a mile in your seat and you ate all the chocolate chip cookie dough laced with rum. And then we stayed up all night when you were puking your guts out.”
Throwing a couch pillow on Vi’s face, she snaps, “Fuck you, Vi. That was a weak moment. Such a low blow.”
“It’s true, though,” Penny says, flipping on her stomach as well, her hands under her chin. “You did freak out a little bit.”
Renn lies on her back, kicking her feet in the air. “I did not. I only knew the guy for like, three weeks tops. That’s nothing. And in that entire time, he annoyed the fuck out of me, okay? I don’t even remember what he looks like. The only reason I don’t forget his name is because you guys won’t stop saying it. So, can we please move on from this joke?”
“But –”
“Guys!” I raise my voice and my hands, deciding to jump into the conversation, still playing the peacekeeper. “Stop fighting, okay? I don’t like fighting.”
All three of them go quiet and look at me for a few seconds before starting back up, completely ignoring me. I sigh, shaking my head. I never should’ve brought up dating.
Amidst the chaos, I hear my phone ring. It’s Beth.
Shooting them one last exasperated glance, I go to the bedroom and shut my door. “Hey, Beth.”
