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Not yet the woman I’d hoped to be when I graduate from college and head back to Boston.
Somewhere in limbo, I exist. And I find myself unable to do what I know I’m supposed to do: leave Abraham Pugliesi alone.
Nothing good can come of this.
But I’m reminded of the last text message I sent him.
You’ll live.
* * *
“How’s school going?”Denise asks as I unlock the front door to my apartment. I set my bag down on the kitchen counter and glance around for any sign of Miley.
“Fine. Hectic, but I’m managing.” I slip my shoes off and head to my bedroom, grabbing a few things for a shower. I’m in desperate need of one, my desire to wash the sticky city air and my sweat off my skin.
Since I’m home alone, I start to strip in my bedroom, tossing my dirty clothes in the hamper in the corner of my sparsely decorated bedroom. I didn’t put too much into this space, figuring I would only be here for a few years, anyway. This isn’t home.
Funnily enough, Boston doesn’t quite feel like home anymore, either…
My sister interrupts my inner thoughts as I walk out of my bedroom in my bra and panties.
“Don’t forget to have fun, Sabrina. If you’re gonna kill yourself at that fancy ass school, make some fucking memories too.”
Her voice is gruff and I imagine the emotion I might see in her eyes if she were in front of me. My tough little sister who speaks in words you have to decode to truly understand.
“So be more like you?” I opt to joke, favoring the idea of lightening the mood instead of getting emotional. My leaving her behind wasn’t an easy decision.
“Fuck you, I’m fun,” she blurts out, and I hear people talking in the background.
“I’m fucking fun too,” I exclaim, peering at my tired reflection in the bathroom vanity. I’m not as busty as Miley, my small chest making me feel more boyish than anything. But the curve of my waist is something I take pride in, the swell of my hips a force to be reckoned with. What I lack in breasts, I make up for with my bottom.
“You used to be.” Denise’s words rip me from my personal examination, and I roll my eyes.
“I promise to have fun,” I assure her, pausing a moment before opening my mouth again to tell her about Professor Pugliesi. I have to tellsomeone.
“Well, I’m meeting up with my friends, so I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I press my eyes shut, nodding before I speak again.
“I love you most,” I mumble our usual parting words.
“Impossible.”
I feel the weight of my loneliness in that moment, nearly naked and staring back at my reflection. My bright red hair against my untanned skin makes me yearn to spend more time in the sun.
My sister was shocked when she saw my hair. But she is my partner in life and she knows more than she’d ever let on. More than I’ve ever verbally expressed to anyone in my entire life.
I am a vault. And locked away, next to everything I fear is the man who’s plagued my thoughts from the moment I met him.
You’ll live.
