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I climb to my feet and look down the street, back toward the hospital.
Adrienne can sit around LA and be depressed all she wants, but nobody’s ever given out a happily-ever-after for free.
Happiness has to be earned. It has to be fought for.
And she needs to get off her ass andfight.
I whisper to myself, “Come on, girl. What are you waiting for?”
Then I cross the street and get in the car.
Chapter24
Adrienne
Hearing from Kacia kicks me into a day-long depression. I wrap myself in blankets, lie on my back in bed, and watch Netflix until it feels like my eye might fall out.
Coming back to LA was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Fortunately, Luca kept paying my rent so I have a place to stay. All my stuff’s still here, although there was a pretty intense smell coming from the refrigerator, and the place needed to be dusted and cleaned up, but otherwise, it’s just the way I left it.
Except now it feels like someone else’s stuff.
I got fired from my job. That’s fine though. I weirdly don’t miss it. I spent so much time at that office and now, looking back, it’s like all of those moments disappeared the moment I left the door, like feathers in the wind. Just gone, like they were never here. I don’t miss it.
So basically, I’m miserable.
I spend twelve hours doing nothing but watchingSeinfeld,Friends, andThe Office. Eventually, I have to eat, and on the way to my favorite vegan place, I spot a couple of girls in a nearby park working out together. They’re both around my age, pretty in the way that everyone in LA is kind of attractive and put together, but something about them makes me think about Peter. About the hours we spent sparring. I look at my hands and the bruises are gone, the scars faded, the marks of all that effort dissipated.
But the fear’s back. I feel that too. The old fear, the fear I thought I’d banished out in Greece. It’s beginning to creep into my life and I hate myself for it. I want to pound on something, punch someone in the face, but the only person I really want to hurt is Peter, or myself, or maybe both of us. I don’t know how long I can live like this hiding out in LA and feeling like a worthless coward.
I take out my phone, sick of myself, sick of feeling so passive, like I can’t do a damn thing to help the people I love. I take out my phone and make a call.
I don’t expect her to answer, but she picks up right before it goes to voicemail. “Oui?”
“Reina. It’s me.”
A short pause. “Adrienne. I didn’t think I’d hear from you.”
A strange flood of relief hits me. “I didn’t think you’d pick up. How are things?”
“Things are good.” She sounds cagey and uncertain. “He’s not here, you know.”
“Okay, that’s okay. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought.”
“You could call him, you know.”
“I doubt he’d answer.”
She sighs. “Still with this? How long have you been away? Do you not have some—what is the word? Perspective?”
“I have perspective.”
“Non, you do not.”
I clench my jaw, suddenly wondering why I put myself through this. Why did I think talking to Reina would make me feel better? She’s done nothing but belittle me and make me feel like an idiot since the day we met—why did I think this would be any different?
“You know what, if it weren’t for Peter, I’d say I hope the Filos catch you. You’re miserable, and rude, and—”
“There it is,” Reina says and laughs. “A little spark from the meek girl.”
