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Vivian
“Tell me you didn’t forget about my trip.”
“Huh? What? No, of course not,” I lie. “It’s just . . . This is Oregon, not Miami.”
“Yeah, but it’s summer. And you live right on the beach.”
I glance out my window at the beach, watching as a few surfers wearing bodysuits carry their boards across the sand. Sighing, I try to remember the last time I went out there during the daytime and felt more than the water lapping at my toes. “Yeah, bring your suits. Just, pack some pants and sweatshirts, too. It only gets into the sixties here. Even in the summer.”
“Got it.” She pauses for a moment, a soft shuffling drifting through her side of the phone. “Please, tell me you’re not still a complete night owl, that we’re actually going to do something this week.”
“Yeah, of course,” I grimace, “this week is going to be amazing. I have tons planned.”
She squeals. I cringe, glad the phone is on speaker and not blaring into my ear like a feral cat on a megaphone.
“This is going to be so fun. An entire week in Seaside. My flight leaves in four hours. I’ll land in Portland at eight forty-two tonight.”
“Got it. I’ll be at the airport with bells on.”
We talk for a few more minutes until she finally says goodbye. Ending the call, I plop down on my bed and sigh.
An entire week of trying to act normal.
“I can do this.” I nod to myself. It won’t be that bad. “Starting tomorrow.” Yawning, I set my alarm for five tonight, then pull my blanket over my body. Before I’ve even snuggled down and gotten comfy, my eyes drift shut, blissful sleep creeping in.
“Asie!” Vivian shrieks, running through the airport arrival hall later that evening.
A tiny part of me wants to cringe at the dreaded nickname. Yet, I can’t stop grinning at the sight of my bestie I haven’t seen in five years, since we graduated college and moved to opposite ends of the country.
Wearing a cute, denim, suspender overall thing with a short-sleeved, paisley crop top, her blond hair flowing around her shoulders, she radiates everything sunny.
“Vivian!” I echo her enthusiasm as I rush up and envelop her in a hug. “I hope you’re ready to freeze, wearing that.”
“What?” She glances down at her impossibly tan legs. “It’s summer?”
“Yeah, maybe in Florida. But here it’s always a bit chilly.”
She shrugs, then hoists her purse higher on her shoulder. “At least I’ll freeze looking hot. So,” she flicks my silver, beaded, septum nose ring, “is this your idea of bells?”
“Huh?” I bat her fingers away.
She just laughs. “I can’t believe you still have that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Um, it was a stupid dare our senior year.”
I shrug. It was an easy dare. Get a giant nose ring or spend my twenty-first birthday doing shots at the bar just off campus. “It’s grown on me.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, revealing the rod through my ear.
“Damn, Asie, turning into the rebel, huh?”
Tugging on my sweatpants, I shake my head, holding in a yawn. “Yeah, real rebel, here.”
“I didn’t say you were a hot rebel. Just,” she waves her hands in a circle toward me, “your own brand of you-obviously-don’t-give-two-shits, rebel. Now, what do you have planned first?”
“Um . . . Get your bags, head back to my place, and maybe order some food.” I try not to glance back down at my grubby sweats that I napped in most of the day as I plaster a smile on my face. I wasn’t even in bed long enough to call it sleeping.It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.
I love Viv. I do. But even this short five minutes with her reminds me why I haven’t tried to visit her over the last half a decade. I’m not normal. I just can’t do all the things.There’s no sense in wasting my time trying to appear like I fit in.
