“Like Nolan Thompson in seventh grade, remember?”
“Oh, Nolan. He asked me out. We went to the movies. I fantasized all through social studies about holding his hand. And then?”
“Nothing.”
“Never spoke to me again. I should look him up. Technically we’re married now. Common law or something, right? We’ve been dating for sixteen years, after all.”
“So you think Stephen would pull a Nolan Thompson?”
“It sort of feels that way.” I paused. “Not that I would let him. I’ve learned my lesson. Damn you, Nolan. Never even got to hold your hand.”
“Are you going to talk to him?”
“Nah. I’m pretty sure he’s married with a bunch of kids now.”
“Not Nolan. Stephen.”
“Yeah. I guess I should.”
“Okay. I’m here for you if you need me.”
We hung up, and I stared into the gathering darkness outside my window. I felt an emptiness in the center of my chest. Wrinkles and gray hairs aside, I didn’t feel like myself. I felt forgotten and forgettable. Fragile and bruised. For once in my life I didn’t feel strong enough to meet whatever storm was coming my way.
CHAPTER 11
I’D GATHERED MY COURAGEand invited Stephen to the Fremont Solstice Parade. He took four hours to respond but finally deigned to say, “Sure.” So here I was, waiting for him at Fremont Coffee. The place was swarming with people. It took me twenty minutes to get an iced latte. And of course Stephen was late, so I spent half an hour on the front porch between a drooling English mastiff and a four-year-old who stared avidly at me as she devoured a cookie the size of her head. Why was I so nervous waiting for a guy I’d been dating for nearly six months?
By the time he arrived, my mood was sour. It was never a good sign when someone was this late and didn’t even bother to text or call with an excuse. Plus, the four-year-old had tried to speak to me.
Stephen pecked me on the cheek as if I were his maiden aunt. He wasn’t smiling, would barely look at me. It was like he wasn’t trying to hide that he was about to break up with me. The fact that he looked and smelled as delicious as ever made it hurt that much worse.
“Do you want a corn dog?” I gestured to the nearest food truck.
He twitched his shoulder in the most irritatingly vague way.He looked claustrophobic, hunching uncomfortably against the onslaught of people from every direction.
“Nachos? Churros?” I pointed out another truck, desperate to steer the date back toward a semblance of normalcy.
He reached back and scratched his neck.
“Guess that’s a no then,” I mumbled, and proceeded to buy myself one of everything. Stephen bought a beer and slouched behind me as I found a spot on the curb to sit on. I ate, and he sat beside me in silence. It is a special kind of torture to eat in front of someone who’s neither eating nor talking. I barely resisted the urge to slap him across the face with my churro.
“Stephen, is there something—” Then a blare of music interrupted me as the parade approached.
“Parade’s starting,” he said, gruffly and unnecessarily.
People around us clapped and whistled. I tossed my garbage in a nearby bin and looked back at Stephen: he stood staring down at his phone, a pillar of gloom among the colorful parade-goers.
Before today, I had never been dumped. Perhaps I just had a selective memory, or perhaps I was truly an irresistible sex goddess. But the point is, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt so completely horrible. It felt like my organs had been flattened by a truck tire; breathing felt painful and, frankly, pointless. Everything felt wrong; it was like opposite day, that stupid thing we used to say when we were kids, but everything aboutmewas opposite. Instead of flawless, I felt ugly. Instead of quick and funny, I felt stupid and boring. Despite the whirl of color and music happening all around me, I felt like my world had been sucked dry of joy.
I solemnly wished to never,everfeel that way again.
We watched the parade side by side, without touching. We were certainly the most grave, least loving people for milesaround. Finally, as though he couldn’t take it anymore, Stephen turned to me. “Rachel, we need to talk.”
I blinked up at him, waiting; there was no need for me to say anything.
He took a deep breath, his dark eyebrows pulling together, his upper lip pouting. I would never forgive him for how handsome he looked in that moment.
“You’re a great girl. I’ve had a lot of fun with you. But I can’t see you anymore.”
