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Gillian whipped around so forcefully that she banged her hip on a console table in the hallway. She let out a shriek and then stared murderously at the table, seizing a small bird made of felted wool that served as decoration. She squeezed the bird between her palms, let out anughfrom the back of her throat, and then dropped the bird to the floor in fury.
Sadie bit down hard on her lip. It was her bird; the felt was crushed inward from where Gillian had squeezed, right at the bird’s wings.
“You okay?” Sadie asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Gillian said gruffly. She stood in her bedroom doorway now. “Just tired.” She finally looked at Sadie for the first time since she’d come home. “What’s up with you?”
Something inside Sadie snapped. “What’s up withme? Oh, I don’t know, I found out I wasted twenty thousand dollars on a procedure that didn’t work, and I’m probably not going to be a mother, but it’s all good!” She almost added that she’d discovered that Gillian was possibly faking her job atWellness, but all of a sudden, she felt too tired to get into it.
Gillian looked at her with a beat of pity. But then her phonebeeped, and her attention flagged once more. Sadie clenched her jaw. She was tired of this person, this friendship. Something solidified in her mind.
She needed to stop feeling bad. This friendship had run its course.
Instagram post from @GillianAnxietyBabe
July 22
[Image description: A figure of a young woman in silhouette. The woman sits on a bare floor, her knees to her chest, her head on her knees. Her hair around her face. She looks to be in despair. The lighting is soft and shadowed.]
Hi friends.
Same me. Same tipsy night. Two posts in one day! Aren’t you lucky?
Not only am I so worried about L and her toxic friend, but things are now really, really falling apart with S and me. S caught me in a lie tonight. She thinks it makes her all high and mighty. It’s hard for me to make her get why I lied. But maybe you guys will understand.
See, I told her I worked at this place, but I actually don’t. But it doesn’t sound as bonkers as you think. I really did go in for the interview. Honest. I wanted to work there. I was ready to kick ass. It’s hard living with S. She just has it so…together. She’s a freaking doctor who owns her own home! I just wanted to show her I could accomplish stuff, too. I wondered if maybe I wasn’t enough for her to keep around. Like maybe that was why she wanted a baby: because all she had to show for herself and her life was her amazing job. I thought if maybe I became less of a loser friend, she wouldn’t be so ready to drop me.
Anyway, I went in for this interview. All of us are writers, right? All of us with communities here. And it was just an assistant position. What could go wrong?
But in the waiting room, they forgot about me for forty-five minutes. It made my anxiety go haywire. Then, the guy who was doing the interview was a decade younger than me. Even worse, he told me the salary—I swear it was below minimum wage. He smiled like he was doing me a favor. Like lots of women in LA would kill to work there.
And then, and this is the worst part, he made me take what’s called an “editing test.” I had never seen one before and surprises are not good for my mental health. I was given a story and had to make it sound better. There were marks on the page I couldn’t make heads or tails of. I asked him what they were, and he made this lemon-sucking face and asked why I was even here.
But here’s where it all comes together, friends. As I was leaving, there was this woman in front of me going out the regular door to the side of the revolving doors. I saw the badge around her neck, where she worked. And I did something I never do: I told her I liked her necklace. Sheseemed really flattered. And then the security guard, who’d been so nice before my interview, asked me if I got the job. I don’t know what made me say it, but it was maybe the cool girl standing right there, and me wanting her to like me, but I said that I had. The security guard congratulated me. And the cool girl looked at me and said, “Cool, good for you. So see ya around, then.” Her smile was truly accepting, because I’d been let into the club.
So, okay, I just sort of went with that. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do with my days. I fell into this…current, I guess, imagining myself in that sort of life for real. I mean, it’s not like I really hurt anyone by saying I worked somewhere I didn’t. It was just a nice alternative reality for a while. A way to take my mind off of how my life was crumbling to shit.
And I thought, too, that maybe something good would come out of the weird lie I was telling: At least maybe I’d get to know this woman more. The woman who smiled at me. The potential friend. New friends can change your life, you know. And you can probably already guess, ladies, who that friend ended up being.
TOP COMMENTS:
@anxiouskitten23:Oh G. I’m so sorry to hear this. Thank you for being honest with us, though. Thank you for being AUTHENTIC.
@RTGz69:My heart goes out for you, honey. It’s so hard. Of course you want to hold on to your friend. Ofcourse you want to make your life look as good as hers does. We are HERE for you!
@mimi_has_troubleZ:Such a jerk with the editing test. F him!
@lonely_girlRZ4540:Can I send you a DM? I have a question. Xo
17
Lenna
October
Present day
Sadie—Sarah—wears a flowered, empire-waist dress and delicate brown sandals. Her blond hair hangs straight down her back—not styled as the last time Lenna saw her, outside theCity GossipandWellnessoffices, but still thick and pretty. Her stomach is flat, but she carries herself a bit swaybacked as if already straining under pregnancy weight. And she holds a knife in her hand. A kitchen knife, from the block Lenna saw inside.
