“You know what I realized the other day?” she asks instead of answering my questions. “I’ve never been to any of your apartments. Not one. I’ve known you since I was seventeen, and I’ve never seen anywhere you’ve lived.”
“Well, you see me at the bar. I basically live there.”
She chuckles and comes back to stand in front of me. “True, but you know what I mean. I was hanging out with Monroe yesterday, half-dead from jet lag, and we both realized we’ve never hung out with you at your place. Monroe had to give me this address from your employee records, which is illegal, by the way. I promised you wouldn’t sue her.”
“I’ll think about it,” I joke.
Roxanne looks so out of place standing here in my doorway—she is right; she’s never been to any of the many places I’ve lived in Montreal—but these past few weeks have been so blurred I probably would have opened the door for a serial killer and said, ‘Salut, you want some tequila?’
“You can take your shoes off,” I tell her. “We can sit down.”
She shakes her head. “I came here to take you somewhere, but first I just want to say...I’m sorry. You always seem like this little ray of sunshine bouncing around and partying all night long, having the time of your life. You always seem like you’re having so much fun that it’s hard to think of you as having problems too, but I know nobody’s that happy all the time. Your friends are supposed to be the people who know you’re not okay even when you say you are, and I...I haven’t been that for you.”
“Ben là, Roxy, that’s not—”
“It is true,” she cuts me off. “I’ve known you almost as long as I’ve known Monroe, and whenever one of us is down, you’re always there to take us out on a crazy adventure and make us feel better.”
She smiles at some memory, and I’m pretty sure I’m thinking of the same thing.
“Do you remember that night at the club—” I begin.
“With the shoe!” Roxy bursts out. “Mon dieu, the shoe!”
“I thought Monroe was going to kill me.”
“I thought Monroe was going to kill me, and I didn’t even do anything,” Roxanne admits.
“I think she wanted to kill everyone.”
We both start laughing so hard we have to lean against the wall, reliving one of the very few times we got Monroe to go into a night club.
“But do you remember why we went out that night?” Roxanne prompts when we can breathe again. “It was because that asshole who used to own Taverne Toulouse was being a dick to Monroe, and Cole and I were fighting again, and the two of us just kept moaning at work about how much our lives sucked until you said enough was enough. You somehow convinced us to close the bar early, wear those horribly unflattering sparkle shirts and ridiculous heels, and get very drunk before marching into a club full of college kids—and somehow, it made us feel better. You always make everyone feel better. I...I want to be there to make you feel better too.”
I sniff and run my hand under my eyes.
No crying. No more crying.
I have cried so much lately.
“Aww, chérie, that is so sweet. Really. You are the best, but I’m okay.”
She gives me a look that tells me to cut the bullshit.
“Okay, so I am a little not okay, but I will be fine. I am always fine.”
Her face doesn’t change.
“Okay, you got me!” I hold my hands up like I’m guilty. “Everything is bad, and I don’t know what to do, and instead of trying to learn to be alone like I’m supposed to, I just lie on my couch and cry into bowls of potato chips and think I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.”
I stare down at the pile of shoes Valérie and I keep by the door. We’re supposed to get a shoe rack, but we both keep forgetting to buy it. I wait for Roxanne to ask me what the hell I’m talking about. I’m sure what I said didn’t make any sense. She can’t know everything that happened with Zach because even Monroe doesn’t know everything that happened with Zach, but when I finally look back up at her, she’s watching me like she knows exactly what I meant—like she’s felt it too.
“I know it’s hard. Trust me, I know. Walking away from someone you don’t actually want to leave is...There’s no pain like that, and knowing it’s the best thing for both of you doesn’t make it any easier, no matter what people say. It actually makes it harder.”
I blink at her, and she shuffles a little closer to me along the wall so that our shoulders are touching.
“I know you feel like you have to be on your own right now, but...how about we spend the day together? We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just do something fun.”
I sigh. “I always do something fun instead of feeling sad. Maybe I just need to be sad.”
“Wow, so emo,” she jokes, bumping my arm. “No offence, but you said yourself that you’re not getting anything out of lying on the couch all day. Just take a little sadness break. Please. You can go back to your potato chips later.”
“I ate so many.” I groan, holding my stomach. “But they’re so good. They fill the emptiness in my heart.”
“Drama queen,” she teases. “Come on. I already bought tickets, so you have to come.”
I perk up a little in spite of myself. “Tickets?”
“Yes, tickets, but you won’t find out to what if you don’t come.”
Letting Roxanne pull me out of the house to do something fun and forget about my problems sounds like opposite of dealing with them, but I meant what I said: the only thinking I’ve done has made me feel like a total connard.
I pushed away the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I pushed away the guy who I’m starting to realize was the only one who ever really cared, and for what? Potato chips? I thought walking away from him would turn me into this strong, badass woman who makes responsible choices, but all it did was leave me waking up sweating every single night and wishing I could run through the streets of Montreal in my PJs to find him and let him hold me.
Not that he would even want to hold me now.
It’s been three weeks, though, and reading self-help articles on the internet and procrastinating about calling my psychologist before dragging my ass to the bar for my shifts hasn’t done anything for me.
Roxy coaxes me into putting some real clothes on. I put my hair up in space buns to hide how greasy it is and to make me feel like I can still be cute. After a little lipstick and some mascara, I look like a human again.
“Where are we going?” I ask for the millionth time as Roxanne and I take the metro down towards the river.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“Ugh!” I lean over and butt my head against her shoulder. “Tell me!”
She doesn’t give in. We get off near the Old Port and walk along the boardwalk for a while. The tourists are still showing up in huge crowds that will only get bigger as the summer goes on. Everyone is drinking slushies and eating things like pretzels and cotton candy. I hear a few kids begging their parents to ride the giant Ferris wheel.
“Are we going on it?” I ask Roxy as we get closer.