“I’ve only opened one box.” I pause. “You sent me an inflatable unicorn?”
“Maybe . . .”
“Simon?”
“Yes?”
“I really like the coffeemaker.”
“I’m so glad.”
“And I’m going to open the rest of the stuff you sent.”
“Whenever you want.”
I realize that I am smiling broadly. “Hey, know what? Guess who is here?”
“Santa Claus? The Easter Bunny?”
I laugh. “No. Steffi. She flew in for the weekend to surprise me.”
“Wow, that is a surprise. That’s a long trip for such a short time. Anything urgent going on?”
“No,” I say too quickly. “No, it’s just . . . well, she got all worked up over something that happened. There’s this boy, and . . . I don’t know.”
“Ahhh,” he says. “A boy. A boy you like?”
“I don’t like him like him. It’s just something weird happened between us, and Steffi got crazy over it.”
Simon’s voice grows concerned. “Something weird meaning that I should be mailing a box of condoms instead of coffeepots?”
“What? Simon! Oh my God!”
“Just checking.”
I hear rattling at the door. “Can I explain another time? Steffi is back with dinner. But don’t worry. Everything is fine.”
“If you say so. Call again soon, will you? I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
I am frozen with the phone in my hand after I hang up. I don’t believe I’ve ever told Simon I miss him. But I do. I realize that now. I’m allowing myself to miss him.
Clearly, I am having some kind of bizarre midcollege crisis in which my mind is being taken over and replaced by someone else’s.
Steffi is now kicking the door from the outside and hollering at me. “Hello? A little damn help here would be nice!”
I jolt from my poor attempt at self-analysis and rush to the door. Steffi is holding an enormous paper bag in one hand and a plastic bag from the liquor store in the other. “The handle on the Chinese-food bag ripped, and we’re about to have a lo-mein disaster of epic proportions.”
“Where have you been?” I ask as I take the bag of food. “You’ve been gone for ages.”
“I told you. Got lost, long wait, blah, blah. Let’s eat. And drink!”
She sits on the floor and pulls out a bottle of tequila. “Picnic time. Let’s just set everything out here.”
“I guess. I’ll get a towel or something—”
“Stop being so uptight. Sit. Eat. Don’t worry about messes. There are bigger problems in the world than a bit of soy sauce on the rug.”
I frown but sit down anyway and start to set out the cartons of food. “You’re as slobby as Esben.”
She unscrews the cap from the tequila and takes a long drink. “Esben’s a slob? I knew I liked him. And you got past my lack of obsessive-compulsive tidiness, so you can get past his.”
I can feel her staring at me with hopeful eyes while I locate chopsticks and dig in to the carton of dumplings. “He helped find a lost parrot once. Using social media. I looked through his old pages. Stuff that he’s done.”
“I saw that parrot one!” she squeals. “Did you see how he started a dance party in a mall once?”
I laugh. “No, I missed that.”
“Insane! I’ll show you. And that boy’s got some moves, by the way. Just so you know.”
For the rest of the night, we eat way too much food, Steffi drinks way too much tequila, though I only have a few shots, and we cruise the Internet and read about Esben Baylor and his various social projects. At two in the morning, when both of us are overtired and simply cannot stay awake, we get into bed.
I stir at six in the morning. Steffi is sitting next to me, her hand on my arm.
“You ready to go?” I murmur.
She nods and squeezes my arm. “Yeah.”
My eyes adjust to the dark. “Text me when you land in LA, okay?”
“Of course.” Then she leans over and puts her arms around me, hugging me tightly.
“I love you, Steff.”
“I love you, too, Allison.” She holds me more tightly. “Be brave. With yourself, with Esben, with everything. Okay? Tell me you will.”
“Okay . . .”
“No, tell me that from now on, you will be brave. Take more risks. And mean it. It’s time. You can’t live in this room and never go out. You’re going to miss too much. So tell me.”
My thoughts are still foggy in the early morning, but I know this is important to her, so I agree. I promise. “I’ll be brave, Steffi. From now on, I’ll be brave.”
CHAPTER 12
BEAR
Monday morning arrives both too quickly and not fast enough. I jolt awake at five in the morning, unable to fall back asleep. This is a pivotal day for me. It’s a day when I will either crawl back into my hole or make massive changes in my life. Both options ripple terror through me, but I am truly more scared to retreat than I am to advance. I promised Steffi that I would be brave, and I need to do that, but not just for her. The ache for more, the ache that I have been pushing away for so long now, has become too strong to ignore. It was already growing, but I’m finally admitting to myself that those one hundred and eighty seconds with Esben somehow threw me into a whirlwind.
Either I get slammed to the ground by that force or I soar. What I’m going through is not Esben’s fault, and I’m not angry with him anymore. Esben caught me on a vulnerable afternoon. He couldn’t have known that I’d be so fragile and fearful.
Of him, of everything.
Hurt, rejection, and emptiness made up my childhood, and they have controlled me for so long now that I don’t know if I can stop them.
But, God, I want to. I don’t want to live like this.
I throw my arm over my eyes to dam the tears that threaten to come.
I am so ashamed of how cold I am. That I have only one friend. That I live in a bubble of my own creation.
I am brave. I am brave. I am brave.
But I cannot stop the tears. “I don’t want to live like this,” I say out loud over and over through my sobbing. I cry for who I have been, who I am, and who I could be. However, I also cry with an iota of relief, because a change is about to happen. I know this. A change that has the possibility of lifting me from the wreckage. What it will look like is very unclear, but I have to take a chance.
I am going to hope again.
I am brave. I am brave. I am brave.
Much later, when my tears subside, a degree of calm takes over. I crawl from my bed and take the coffeepot that Simon sent and start a very strong brew. I leave the box and packing material on the floor in an intentional effort to ease up on my strict sense of order. I head to the shower, and the hard waterfall against my skin refreshes me some, but my eyes are horribly puffy, so when I return to my room, I run an ice cube over them while I sip coffee from one of the red cups. I dry my hair and then attempt to replicate the curls that Steffi gave me the other night. I put on a sleeveless white mock turtleneck and a camel-beige open cardigan and pair those with jeans and brown boots. Then I put on some makeup. It’s less than Steffi would suggest but more than I usually do. I want to feel pretty today, because I need any boost I can get.