Not sure how to handle the situation, I say, “It’s okay if she wants to leave.”
“No.” Carter focuses his attention on me. “It’s not okay, and you shouldn’t be fine with her leaving. Stand up for yourself.”
The level of uncomfortableness has kicked up a few more notches. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. I’m still making friends but it doesn’t seem like Carter is going to let this go, so I muster a little bit of courage. “I would really appreciate if you stayed just a little bit longer.”
I try not to wince as I look at Hollyn. I really don’t want to make her angry, especially since she was so nice to me the other day and she’s Amanda’s best friend.
Hollyn eyes Carter but then turns her attention on me. “I would love to see your dream board, Daisy. I’m sorry for being rude, I’ve just had a really horrible week.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head. “No. I really don’t.”
I don’t push her, instead, I take my dream board out of the plastic bags I wrapped it in and hold it in front of me. I really went all out, using fabrics, magazine clippings, fringe, and pretty much anything I could find in my craft drawers.
“That’s fantastic,” Carter says, leaning forward to get a better look at it. Oh gosh, when he’s nice to me, it makes my stomach get all fluttery.
“Thank you. Dreaming big meant something to me these past weeks. I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing in this program, dreaming big, so pulling together a visual seemed easy. What it comes down to is, I want to live. I’ve been stuck in this little bubble my whole life, never really doing anything for me, always living for my grams but now that she’s taken care for, it’s my turn. I want to put me first and just live.”
Bobbles and trinkets hang off my dream board, pictures representing milestones I would love to achieve, places I want to visit, and activities I want to do.
“What’s with the rubber spatula?” Carter asks.
“Oh, I want to work in a bakery one day. I have some time and money to explore the world right now, but when I’m done, I want to work in a bakery.”
Carter nods his head and continues to examine the board. “You went all out, Snowflake.”
“I like being crafty.” I shrug.
“Didn’t she do a good job, Hollyn?” Carter asks, involving Hollyn into the conversation, who clearly wants to leave.
“Fantastic. Looks like you have a lot going for you.” Do I? Is she just being nice?
Kind of a weird comment. How does one respond to that? Thank you? You have a lot going for you too? Maybe you should just leave because the Debbie Downer vibe you’re sending isn’t quite working for me?
“She does have a lot going for her,” Carter says, a softness in his eyes as he looks at me, dispelling any kind of uncomfortable feeling I might be having.
Why is it so easy for him to make me feel like mush?
And why does his comment give me all the confidence in the world?
***
Dear Life,
I have never felt so nauseated, so sick, so absolutely disgusted in myself before in my entire life.
I kissed another man. I knew it was wrong. At that moment, with Jace staring at me, the same kind of hurt I saw reflected in my eyes, I knew I was too close. I knew I was getting too attached, and yet, I still moved forward and pressed my body against his. I let him touch me, hold me, kiss me back.
I’m a cheater. There is nothing else to say.
Sincerely,
Hollyn
Dear Life,
New clothes, new experiences, new friends. It seems like things are piecing together for me, and yet, I feel uneasy.
Isn’t it obvious as to why? I have a HUGE crush on Carter. I feel so embarrassed just thinking about it. Kind of like the sad-nerdy-girl-who-likes-the-bad-boy-on-a-bike embarrassed. I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. It’s before I go to bed, when I wake up, even at these meetings. I get so excited to see him. And the worst part, there is no way he would feel the same way.
Tonight for instance, he was so stand-offish, barely looked at me, until he started talking sternly to Hollyn, defending me, saying I have a lot going for me. He’s throwing me such mixed signals that I don’t want to do something stupid, like try to kiss him when all he really wants is to be my friend. Or maybe he sees me as some pity project?
Once again, I’m hindered by my past, not properly preparing me to know how to read people, how to tell if they’re actually interested in me. And I can’t ask Hollyn.
What does a girl really do at this point? Do I ask him if he likes me? That seems scary. A little too scary for me right now. Maybe I’ll just ride it out for now. That seems like a good idea.
Kind regards,
Daisy
Dear Life,
Hell, where do I even start? I can’t even formulate feelings for the bomb that was just dropped on me by Rebecca. I’m just going to say it. She’s a fucking bitch. A selfish, convoluted, twisted, fuck-up. That’s all I can reflect on because fuck, if I spend too much time thinking about, I will find my ass on the floor, staring down the empty end of a bottle. I’m barely hanging on by a thread.
And the one person I want to lean on won’t talk to me. My phone calls and texts are going unanswered, which fucking hurts. It’s causing my anger to twist further and further into the dangerous, I’m-about-to-snap zone.
That will have to be fixed, right away, because fuck if I will put up with Hollyn not talking to me. I don’t care if our kiss scared her. I need her and right now, she needs me too.
Jace
Dear Life,
Fuck to the you.
Carter
Step Five: Learn Something New
HOLLYN
“I want sauce on the side, but only if it has onions in it. If there are no onions, then you can put it on the pasta but only with Parmesan cheese, the real stuff. Leave the garnish, but only if sauce is on the side. If sauce is not on the side, then no garnish. And I want my garlic bread extra crispy, but not burnt, if it’s burnt, I send it back. Got it?”
Patience. What’s patience? I lost it around I “want” my sauce on the side. What a rude whore face. Working in the food industry for so long has taught me the proper lingo when ordering something. I want and I need? Yeah, you can go fuck yourself. I would like and may I please have, those terms will keep me away from slipping my thumb in your food.
Tonight has been living torture. Rude customer after rude customer. Demanding everything from a seedless lemon for their water, to more napkins. Here’s a hint: stop slurping up your spaghetti like a slob and you won’t have to pat your squirrely mouth every two seconds with a napkin.