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“You knew it was going to take time to build up your clientele,” Caleb says, as if my impending destitution isn’t a big deal. I’ve barely made enough with these four clients to payfor my groceries, let alone rent, insurance, utilities, etc. One client only wanted me to make her a tiny little logo to use on her business cards. I didn’t even know people really did business cards anymore now that people just look up businesses online.
“I know. I just didn’t know it would be four-clients-for-a-whole-month slow,” I sigh as I lean back on the couch. I was naive…and possibly delusional.
“What else? I know there’s more to this than that.”
I pause, not sure if I’m ready to talk about Ellis with him again. The last time we talked about her, it ended in me wanting to punch him in the face. But Caleb is a good friend, and everything he said last time was true—I just didn’t want to admit any of it yet. Also, I have no one else I feel comfortable talking about this with. I can’t talk to my mom about it because she’s too emotionally involved. She would be elated and jump ahead a million steps and then inevitably be crushed when things didn’t work out. I can’t do that to my mom.
“Ellis and I almost kissed the other day,” I say in a mumbled rush, just trying to get it out before I have time to think better of it.
Caleb leans forward in his seat and says, “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“I almost kissed Ellis!”
He tries to cover his smirk with his hand as he fakes a cough, but I’m not an idiot. I know he’s probably laughing hysterically in his head. I would expect nothing less from him.
“And why does this have you spiraling out of control?” he asks once he can talk without laughing. “And why was it an ‘almost’ kiss? What happened? Did she shut you down?”
“It was after we took a yoga class together,” I start, and Caleb’s eyes go wide, and his mouth opens to either berate me or hurl insults at me. I’m not sure which one because I stophim before he gets a word out. “Ellis begged me to go with her, so don’t say anything. Anyway, after class, we were the only two left in the room, and it just sort of happened…or didn’t happen because Valerie came in and freaked out when she saw us.”
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to wipe away the mental images of that night that pop into my head. Ellis’s petite frame underneath me, my heart beating out of control, Ellis’s surprised but pleased expression, and then Valerie’s hand over her eyes when everything I ever wanted was dashed away.
“I can’t believe you let her talk you into going to a yoga class,” Caleb says.
“Can we focus on the important topic?” I reply.
“Okay,” Caleb begins, drawing the word out long and slow as he ponders the situation. “Ask her out, and then try again,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as if it’s no big deal. Like it’s so easy to not worry about what the other person is thinking and feeling. As if dating your best friend is the most normal thing in the entire world. There is absolutely nothing normal about this situation. If it were normal, my stomach wouldn’t be completely tied up in knots.
“I haven’t heard from her since it happened.”
“It’s only been two days, right?”
“Yeah…wait! How do you know it’s only been two days?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” Caleb says, waving his hand to dismiss my question.
“Do you have Valerie’s class schedule memorized?” I ask. He ignores the question, but his face turns a bit red. Why does a man who claims to hate yoga have the yoga studio’s class schedule memorized?
“Two days is nothing! Now text her, since she’s probablystill sleeping, and then get dressed so we can go work out. You’re starting to look a little pudgy around the middle from all those workouts you’ve been skipping to go do yoga,” Caleb says. I knew he wouldn’t just let the yoga thing go.
“After that class, I know for a fact that you know nothing about yoga.”
13
Ellis
I’m on a date—like a real date—withJosiah. At least, I think it’s a date. We never actually established what this is when we were texting back and forth to make plans earlier in the week. Normally when we go out, it’s a very spur-of-the-moment thing. He’ll call me and ask, “Hey, do you want to go get tacos? Cool. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.” He’ll show up in a t-shirt and flip-flops thirty minutes later. His hair might be combed, but usually not. And it’s all fine and dandy because we’re just going to the little taco stand parked out by the gas station that may or may not give us food poisoning later.
Tonight has been nothing like that. Not even a little bit. On Monday, Josiah texted me, asking if he could take me out sometime this week. He has never planned in advance like that, and I spent three whole hours agonizing over what the heck was going on. Valerie was almost ready to strangle me before she typed out my response for me, which was a resounding yes.
Also of note, this is not a humble little taco joint. He brought me to a Greek restaurant all the way in Clifton that he claims he’s always wanted to try. I’ve never heard him mention Greek cuisine in my life, so I’m doubtful he even knew this restaurant existed before planning this date. I didn’t know that he knew what Greek food was. His culinary tastes usually stick to the four main food groups: tacos, pizza, chips, and whatever frozen foods are in aisle three of the grocery store.
Another clue this might be a date: he’s wearing a button-down shirt, and it’s tucked into a pair of jeans that actually fit him. He must have had someone help pick them out, because they fit his thighs perfectly, unlike the baggy jeans he usually wears. Is it getting hot in here? I fan my face with my menu, and Josiah asks if I’m too warm. I place the menu down on the table and shake my head.
“Do you know what you want?” he asks. I haven’t actually looked at the menu yet, because I’ve been too busy panicking in my head to be able to decipher the words in front of me. They may as well be hieroglyphics.
“Nope. What about you?” Maybe I can just get the same thing he’s getting.
Josiah looks at his menu again and hunches down close to it so he can read the words. “You know, if you would go to the eye doctor, they could give you these really cool new devices that will help you see better. I think they’re called glasses. Or if you’re really modern, you can get contacts. They’re revolutionary,” I say in my most smarmy, sarcastic tone.
