‘I’m sorry it happened.’
‘Me too. I’ve never been fired before.’
‘What does it feel like?’ I say, without thinking. What a terrible question. I honestly shouldn’t be allowed to talk to people.
‘Pretty bad,’ he says.
‘What happened, exactly?’ It feels a little nosy to ask, but I sense he might want to talk.
Alex rolls over and lies on his back.
‘Long story short, my boss, Garry, likes to scream and yell at people. Like, I know that’s a thing all chefs do, or something, but this guy is really bad. I think there’s something seriously wrong with him. Anyway, tonight he was picking on me and this other guy, Felix. Mostly I just ignore him, but Felix lost it. He and Garry got into a huge argument and I sided with Felix. I told Garry he was being unreasonable, and that he can’t treat people like this, and at the end of my shift Garry told me not to bother coming back.’
‘That’s awful.’
‘Yeah. The thing is, he didn’t fire Felix, who said a lot worse than me. I think he just wanted to get rid of me. I’m not the greatest cook yet, but I’m getting a lot better.’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong, though.’
‘Maybe I did. Maybe I should have kept out of it. Anyway, Mum and Dad are going to be furious.’ He lets out a long breath.
‘They’ll understand,’ I say.
‘They’ll say they knew this was going to happen,’ he says.
‘You can get another job,’ I say, with more confidence than I should, since I know nothing about the industry.
‘I just feel like…’ he pauses, and then he rolls over and looks at me. ‘You know what? Let’s talk about something else. What did you do tonight?’
I ignore his question. ‘You just feel like what?’ I say.
He’s silent for a few seconds, and I can feel him wavering, hedging his bets on how much he wants to say.
‘I just feel like, no matter how hard I try, I’m screwing everything up right now. My whole life feels like a huge mistake,’ he says, quietly.
I know that feeling. The one that says my life isn’t how it’s supposed to be, that I’ve made all the wrong decisions.
‘It’s a new year. You’ve got a clean slate,’ I say. I’m naturally a pessimist, but tonight I’ll play the role of optimist for Alex.
‘Technically, I was fired this year. About ten minutes into this year, to be precise,’ he says.
‘Anything bad that happens in the first hour of a new year still belongs to the previous year. It’s a rule,’ I say.
‘That’s a good rule.’
We’ve shuffled a little closer to one another during this conversation.
‘Now forget everything I just said,’ he says.
‘Why?’ I say.
‘Because I just told you a very humiliating thing about myself and…it’s embarrassing.’ He gives a little uncomfortable half-laugh.
‘See, I don’t think you realise who you are talking to. I’m the queen of humiliating things. My life has been one big humiliation,’ I say. I regret the words as soon as they are out of my mouth, because I know what his next question will be.
‘Like what?’
I try to think of something I would actually want to tell him, something funny and easy, a humble brag that sounds embarrassing on the surface but is actually designed to make me sound cool, something that doesn’t involve me being ashamed of the state of my body or the state of my personality. Nothing comes to mind.
But it’s dark, and he’s waiting, and I have to speak.
‘Like, all of my high-school years, I guess,’ I say.
‘Give me an example.’
I reach for the safest option I can think of in the moment, something he already knows. ‘Well, the other night at that party. You saw me hiding in the bathroom. You saw me cry.’
‘You went to a party where you didn’t know anyone. That’s brave.’
‘You have a low bar for brave,’ I say.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done?’
He thinks for a while.
‘I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything truly brave.’
‘What about tonight? Standing up to your boss?’
‘Maybe.’ He sounds unconvinced.
‘It sounded brave to me.’
‘Well then, maybe you have a low bar for brave,’ he says, reaching across the pillow barrier to gently poke my arm.
His very brief touch gives me goosebumps. ‘Or maybe we’re both incredibly courageous people,’ I say.
‘We’re heroes, really,’ he says.
‘They’ll write books about us.’
‘And make movies.’
‘Little kids will dress up as us on Halloween.’
‘That means we need superhero costumes.’
‘Mine has a silver dagger with a poisoned tip, and a black hooded cape,’ I say. I’ve always wanted a cape, so I can sweep out of a room with purpose or pull the hood back to dramatically reveal my identity.
‘Are you a superhero or an assassin?’ he says.
‘A bit of both,’ I say.
‘Well, my superhero costume will have a jetpack, and a sword.’
‘I’m not sure a jetpack and a sword really fit together, thematically.’
‘You think that now, but when you see a sword fight in the air, you’ll change your mind.’ He sounds very sure of this.
‘But how are you fighting with the sword and steering the jetpack at the same time? It’s logistically very dangerous.’
We argue about swords and jetpacks for a little while, and I can hear in his voice that he’s relaxing.
‘Thank you,’ he says suddenly.
‘What for?’
‘I came in here feeling terrible. And now I feel a bit less terrible.’
‘Less terrible, but still not good?’
‘Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’
I laugh, and then close my eyes. I listen to him breathe, and I can tell the moment he falls asleep because his breathing changes.
I lie there listening to him sleep for a long time, which is a thrillingly intimate and kind of creepy thing to do. I can’t help it though, because I feel wide awake. I’ve never spent the night in a bed with a guy before. I want to document every moment, although after a while it becomes clear that with Alex asleep, there is very little to document.
It feels like I’ve just closed my eyes when my alarm starts quietly buzzing.
11
An Incomplete List
Here is an incomplete list of my actual greatest humiliations from high school that I would never say out loud to Alex, or anyone:
A woman in the supermarket asking me what happened to my face, because my acne was so bad it didn’t even look like acne anymore.
Crying in my doctor’s office when she showed me the smallest kindness by saying, ‘Oh honey, you poor thing.’
Crying in my dermatologist’s office when he said, ‘You should have come to me sooner,’ and it became clear that everything was my fault.