I stared at her. I was angry and jealous of his success, but underlying all of that was a deep and endless hurt, which felt fresher than ever now that I was reading Jase’s book. But I couldn’t focus on that now. I couldn’t wrap my heart and mind around why he turned us in all those years ago. So I focused on the jealousy, like a bitter writing instructor who couldn’t write herself out of a cardboard box.
“Cyndi and Sharon are coming over, and I just want to forget all about this, okay? I don’t want to think about him or that book ever again.”
“I think you’re being irrational, Emi,” Cara said in a soothing voice.
“No, I’m not.” I walked toward her, braced her shoulders, and tried my best to compose myself. “I spent years in therapy trying to work through, or at least forget, everything that happened. I just can’t read it anymore. Please understand.”
“There’re, like, ten more chapters, Em. I think you should give it a chance. I think it’ll be healing for you.”
“She’s Em, Cara. I’m Emi. We’re not the same person. I appreciate you trying so hard, but no, I’m not going to give it a chance. He did his thing, and now I’m doing mine. End of the real story, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Okay,” she said unconvincingly. I gave her a hug. “You should still go to the book event. He deserves readers who love and support him. He’s a fucking bestselling published author, after all. But please don’t mention me to him.”
She nodded. “I would never.”
I went back to my room and crawled under the sheets.
SOMETIME IN THE early afternoon, I woke to a pounding headache and mild nausea. I looked at the clock. It was three. My apartment was eerily quiet, and I remembered that Cara was at the bookstore, waiting in line to see Jase so she could congratulate him on basically telling the entire world the horrors of our childhood and then making me look like the bad guy.
I moped around for twenty minutes until I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to text her.
Me: R U there?
Cara: Yes, there’s a line around the building
Me: Ur kidding me?
Cara: Lots of giddy women
Me: That fucker.
Cara: glad 2 c ur mood has changed
Me: Where is it?
Cara: Ur coming?
Me: Don’t know yet. Where?
Cara: Mysterious Galaxy Bookstore
Me: K
Cara: I’ll save you a spot
Me: No, get ur book signed
I stared into my closet for what felt like hours. Finally, I said fuck it and went with jeans, a high-necked sweater, and tennis shoes. I put the most minimal amount of makeup on, just a touch of lip gloss and mascara, and then flat-ironed my hair. I still felt like I was trying too hard, so I slicked my hair back into a ponytail, grabbed my keys, and ran out the door.
Right after grad school, Cyndi and Sharon had bought me an old Honda. Even though they had plenty of money for something nicer, they refused to let me drive around in a rich-kid car, especially since they never made me get a job while I was in school. I felt like I had paid my dues, but I appreciated their efforts and didn’t really care about cars anyway.
I sped down the freeway with shaking hands. My mind was spinning. What would I say to him? How would he look?
When I pulled into the parking lot, my mouth fell onto the floor of my Honda. Cara wasn’t exaggerating. The line was literally wrapped around the building, and it was mostly women.
I joined the end of the line, and within minutes a woman came over and told me I had just made it. I was the last person that Mr. Colby would have time for before the store closed. I texted Cara.
Me: Where are u?
Cara: Inside. U here? U wanna come inside? I can say I was saving ur spot?
Me: No. Can you see him?
Cara: Yes.
Me: And?
Cara: He’s gorgeous, Emi. Nice suit.
Me: He’s wearing a suit?
Cara: Wearing it well, my friend. He looks like a model. He has perfect hair and he’s charming the panties off these women. Can I please flirt with him?
Me: I’m leaving
Cara: NO!!!!!! I was kidding. You have to see him
When I got inside, there was a large bookshelf obscuring my view of where Jase was set up. I stood on my tippy toes to try and get a better view, but all I could see was the top of his head. I didn’t see Cara in the crowd, but she texted me later to say she was waiting in the parking lot.
Me: Did he sign your book?
Cara: Yes
Me: What else did he say? What did he write in it?
Cara: He was really polite. He just said thanks for reading and for coming out and then he asked what my favorite part was.
Me: What did you say?
Cara: I said the ending
Me: Wait, how does it end?
Cara: You’ll have to read it
Me: I still have a ways to go until I’m at the front of the line. You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll meet you at home.
Cara: You sure? You won’t need moral support?
Me: I’m fine.
Cara: K. See you at home.