I wake up the next morning thinking back to the last conversation I had with Blair. She wasn’t necessarily thrilled with my decision to remain in Troutdale with my dad for the summer instead of joining her in Cali to continue celebrating our graduation.
Blair has more to celebrate than I do. She managed to land a kickass position at Nike in Portland. Meanwhile, I’m still stuck working a dead-end retail job. I’m more ashamed than anything else that I let time pass me by instead of putting my best foot forward. Although I remained focused on my studies, I didn’t use that same effort to land a worthwhile internship that would later evolve into a lucrative post-graduation job. I was more focused on maintaining my grades and keeping Jake happy.
Of course, whenever Blair is on the brain, Jake isn’t far away. Then, the cruel reality of him moving on hits me all over again, and I’m tangled in this vicious cycle of twisted emotions. It’s fucking frustrating.
Before I can roll out of bed to use the bathroom, my phone rings. My heart starts.
Is it Jake?
I check the name on the screen and sigh, hesitant to answer it. It’s Blair, probably calling to pester me for the hundredth time since I left Eugene. She really wants me to go to the beach in northern California with her this summer.
“Hello,” I mutter, disheartened after finally picking up.
“Quen!” she squeals with glee. “What’s my favorite bookworm doing in Troutdale?”
“Same ol’, same ol’,” I mumble.
“By the way, I finally saw the pic of that beach bum and his brand new floozy on Facebook. What a total downgrade,” she sighs.
“Oh, I’m certain she’s a nice girl,” I say, insincere.
“Yeah, right,” she snarls. “Well, the invitation to my dad’s beach house still stands. Jake’s already moved on and so should you. It’ll just be you and me there since my dad will be in Europe working until early August, giving us plenty of time to find a summer fling or two,” she says in a cheery voice.
I roll my eyes at the thought.
I’ve told her time and time again that I am done with men.
“Lest we forget, Jake is also in California at the moment, which does not make your offer the least bit tempting,” I counter.
Blair sighs. “Look, Grouchy… Barker’s in southern California, while my dad’s place is in Carmel-by-the-Sea. That’s in northern California, Missy, and seven hours away. California is huge! Carmel Beach is practically in a whole other state from where Jake is in San Diego, as far as I’m concerned.”
Blair has a cunning way of putting things into perspective. Still, I’m not ready to decide on leaving just yet. I’ve been having fun back home in Troutdale doing…well…
Okay—if I’m being totally honest with myself, I haven’t done a damn thing since I’ve been back. Other than working at Lenny’s, I’ve been busy turning down camping trips with Dad, then reading and sulking, sulking and reading.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally say.
“Fine,” she concedes. “I’ll give you a few days to think about it since I’ll be stuck here in Bend with my mom for the next three days.”
Blair’s folks are divorced and live in two completely different states. Her mom lives in Bend, while her dad is just about everywhere but Oregon. While her mom doesn’t work, her father is a big-time owner of an international trucking company.
“Why do you say you’re stuck?” I chuckle.
“You know how insane my mom is. Every time I’m ready to leave Bend, she starts bitching and moaning about how I spend more time with Dad than I do with her since the divorce. I’m much closer in proximity to her and hardly ever get to see Dad. Yet, the moment she finds out that I’m planning on spending time with him, she commences with the guilt tripping. She’s famous for it. It’s why Dad left her ass in the first place.”
Ouch. As I listen to my best friend vent about her parents, I realize she isn’t immune to drama this summer like I originally thought. She has her own unique brand of it, even in beautiful Bend. After thirty minutes or so, I tell Blair that I need to finally crawl out of bed and start my day.
“Okay,” Blair sadly acquiesces. “Oh…and think about what I said. I’m going to keep emailing you pictures of the breathtaking view outside of the beach house until you decide to go. I’ll even pay for your fli…”
“Stop,” I say, interrupting her. “If I decide to go, you are not paying for my flight.”
“Fine,” she grunts, displeased. “I just want you there with me. And by the way, stay off of Jake’s Facebook page. It’ll only make you feel worse.”
She’s right.
If Blair were here right now, I’d give her a big hug for being such a tower of strength for me during such a heartbreaking time.
The very next day, I find myself holding my cell in one hand and a glob of tissues in the other. I’ve been crying all morning ever since I tortured myself by going on Facebook.
There it was: A newly uploaded photo of Jake and Bianca passionately kissing on a boat as the sun sets behind them. I completely fell apart.
“Hey, girlie,” Blair sings.
“Hey.” I sniffle.
“I fucking knew it!” she growls. “You went on Facebook after I told you not to, and you saw the new pic, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I pout like a young child.
“I told you to stay away from there,” she chastises.
“I’m coming to the beach house,” I say, the words tumbling out of me.
“Yay! Thank goodness for Facebook,” she exhales in utter relief.
“I’ll start packing in a minute.” I sniffle.
“Did you book your flight?”
“No, I want to drive,” I tell her.
“What?!” she squawks. “Quen, that’s a long ass drive!”
“I know, but I want to do it. I can drive twelve straight hours without stopping, no problem.”
“Geez, Quen, I don’t know…”
“I think I need the time alone on the road to put my life in perspective. A road trip is exactly what I need.”
Blair sits in silence for a beat. “Alright, but be careful. I’ll probably end up beating you there. Just let me know when you’re halfway.”
“I will.”
An hour later, I’m in the living room telling my father a bold faced lie. I tell him I plan on heading back to Eugene for two weeks to meet Blair, who’s on her way there from Bend. I also mention that it’ll probably be the last time I get to hang out with her before she arrives in Portland to start her new job. In reality, Blair doesn’t start her job until late-August, and she’ll be hanging out at the beach house until then.
Why lie? Because Dad would never let me drive all the way to California all by myself. I’m a fucking adult, for crying out loud. I drove eight hours from Eugene to Vancouver, Canada for a class outing with no issue whatsoever.
What’s another four hours?
I’ll have no problem making that trip to Carmel-by-the-Sea.
Famous last words.