Sad Girls

  “What was that?” asked Gabe.

  I shook my head. “I was just thinking out loud—the view here is spectacular.”

  “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

  He peeled off his backpack and sat down on a large, flat rock. I went to join him. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a bright red thermos.

  “Coffee?”

  “Oh yes!” I said.

  I watched as he carefully poured the coffee into plastic cups before passing one to me. I took the cup from him and sipped the coffee slowly, feeling mildly euphoric. Being in Gabe’s company made me feel at ease. It was hard to believe we’d only met recently. I felt as though I had known him all my life.

  “How often do you come out here?” I asked.

  “Every chance I get. It’s been really busy at the garage lately, so I’ve been helping my uncle out with extra shifts. But he made me take the day off today.”

  “The two of you are close, aren’t you?”

  Gabe grinned. “Yeah, we are. He’s a good guy. He’s always had my back.”

  “How about your parents? Are they here in Delta?”

  “No, in Denver. Dad’s a software engineer, and Mom teaches middle school. Dad is still furious that I turned down my scholarship to Stanford, so I haven’t been back home for a while.”

  “Rosie told me about that. Why didn’t you go for it?”

  “I suppose I just wanted to see the world a little before I made that kind of commitment. Nothing more to it than that.” He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes staring out at the horizon. “How about you?” He turned to look at me. “Did you ever go to college?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t have the option because I kind of messed up my exams.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  I took a deep breath and told him about my panic attack. “At the time, it was like the end of the world, you know? But then, life just carried on, and I landed this amazing position at See! Sydney—they’re an award-winning publication. And I’ve learned so much since—more than anything a degree could have taught me. I’m a lot further ahead in my career than I would have been if I’d done it the regular way.”

  “I guess it was a blessing in disguise, then.”

  “It was.”

  “So what are you planning to do now?”

  I told him about Angie and the opportunity to have my work published.

  “Wow, Annie Otto, that’s huge!”

  “I can’t believe something that big fell into my lap. But now I’m scared shitless, and I can’t make the words do what I want.”

  “It’s just performance anxiety. You’ll get past it in no time.”

  “I hope so.” As I gazed out at the picturesque scene, I felt suddenly upbeat. Gabe was right; it was just performance anxiety, nothing more than that. As soon as the nerves settled, I would write like I used to, and the stories would come rushing onto paper.

  “In the meantime, just sit proud and think of how much you’ve accomplished.”

  I grinned. “You know, life isn’t all that different from a snakes and ladders game, is it? A ladder appears out of nowhere, and all of a sudden you’re that much closer to the finish line.”

  “But it works the other way too.”

  “It does,” I said, thinking back to my breakup with Rad. “Everything was going so well for me, then it was like a slippery slope. My best friend, Candela, went AWOL, my relationship ended, and I just couldn’t function. I left my job, which was a crazy thing to do. There are hundreds of grad students who would kill for my position, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to be somewhere different, forget the real world for a while.”

  “I think you’ve been pretty brave, coming out here all by yourself.”

  “It was hard the first few weeks. I felt like I had made a terrible mistake. But I couldn’t go back home, not after telling everyone this was my dream. I couldn’t face it, so I stuck it out in that shitty motel. But now, as each day goes by, it becomes clearer to me that I did make the right choice. I don’t have anything solid to go by; it’s just a feeling.”

  “It’s good to get out of your comfort zone. All my life, I was book smart—your stereotypical nerd.”

  “You, a nerd?” I laughed.

  “Yes, a full-blown nerd. We’re talking glasses, braces, Dungeons & Dragons—the works. I even went on this game show called Battle of the Brainiacs. I was the chubby, happy-go-lucky kid who aced all his exams and cleaned up at the chess tournament. All my life, I’d spent so much time inside my head. One day—it was only a few weeks after I sat for my SATs—it was almost like I snapped and my brain wanted a vacation.”

  “Snapped?”

  “Yes, a panic attack. Similar to yours. One minute I was wolfing down enchiladas with some friends at our favorite hangout; the next I was on the floor, clutching my chest and thinking I was having a heart attack.”

  “But you’re the most stable and level-headed person I’ve ever met.”

  “I wasn’t always like this. It took a lot of work for me to get there.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “My parents sent me to a see a guy. He recommended that I start running, so I did. Once I started, it became an addiction. I’d spent so much time developing my mind I had neglected my body. It was starved for attention. So the second I put a little focus there, my body lapped it up like nobody’s business. That was when I realized how important it was to find a balance between the two. So now I run and hike as much as possible. Sometimes I go kayaking or mountain biking, and as you know, I recently learned to swim. I was never any good at sports—I didn’t think I could do those things. But the more I got into it, the easier it became. Now it’s as natural to me as breathing. And it all started one morning when I laced up my running shoes and went for a jog around the block.”

  “That’s amazing,” I said, feeling suddenly inspired. “At home, I barely did anything physical. I walked to work and back—that’s about it. But when I got here, I walked a lot because there was nothing else to do. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, walking was making me stronger not just physically but mentally as well.”

  “That’s what I mean about getting out of your comfort zone. That’s where you learn the most about yourself.”

  We were quiet for a few moments, watching the sun creep upward, painting the sky a cotton candy pink.

  “So you don’t ever get panic attacks anymore?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  “Well, you know what Hunter S. Thompson said about the ‘edge.’”

  I nodded. “Only the ones who have gone over know what it’s really like.”

  “Exactly. Once you cross over, you can’t go back. It never goes away completely. You just get better at dealing with it.”

  “My therapist gave me this.” I pulled back the sleeve of my Sherpa jacket to show him the rubber band around my wrist. “Whenever I feel anxious, I just snap the rubber band against my skin.”

  “Does it work?”

  “It does, most of the time. It definitely helps to have it there.”

  “Do you know what I do?”

  I shook my head and let him continue.

  “I picture a ship tied to a mooring. I imagine the rope between the two is made of this indestructible material. It’s impossible to break. Not even an atomic bomb could sever it. And as I picture this infallible piece of rope, I imagine the ship is my mind and the mooring is my body.”

  “I like that. I might have to borrow it sometime.”

  He grinned his good-natured grin. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  He reached into his backpack. “Do you like peanut butter and jelly?”

  “Absolutely,” I smiled.

  A few weeks later, I spoke to Lucy via FaceTime and brought up Gabe for the first time. br />
  “I’ve made a new friend. His name is Gabe.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “He’s really great, so much fun to be around. He’s funny and smart—so different from Rad—” I stopped. I hadn’t said Rad’s name out loud in such a long time that it felt like I was breaking some kind of taboo. “Not that I’m thinking about Gabe in a romantic way,” I added.

  “But you’re still thinking about Rad?” said Lucy cautiously.

  “Of course I am. I think about him all the damn time.”

  “Oh, sweetie. The two of you had something pretty special. I mean, anyone could see that.”

  “I know,” I said quietly. “He was the only person who understood me in a way that was profound, in a way that mattered. How can you get past something like that? Something that meant that much—” I stopped, feeling the same old anxiety rear its ugly head. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Anyway. Let’s not talk about Rad anymore.”

  “Okay, then, why don’t you tell me about your new friend?”

  “Well, he’s been teaching me to drive—”

  “You’re learning to drive? Audrey, that’s amazing! When did this happen?”

  “I got my learner’s permit a few weeks back.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t sure if I’d go through with the lessons and how I’d do. But it’s actually going well. Better than I ever thought! Gabe thinks it won’t be much longer before I can go for my test. We’re doing lessons practically every day.”

  “That’s really nice of him.”

  “I know. I’m so thankful.”

  “So what else do the two of you get up to aside from driving lessons?”

  I told her about our hiking trip. “We took some pictures. Do you want to see?”

  “I’d love to! Send away!”

  I texted her some pictures we took on the mountaintop that morning.

  “Holy shit, Audrey. That’s Gabe?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Boy, you weren’t kidding about the view. And I don’t mean the mountain scenery. Is he like a model or something?”

  “No, he works for his uncle at the local auto shop.”

  “Seriously, Audrey, and I don’t say this lightly—he is magnificent. Like, probably the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Ever.”

  I laughed. “He’s really smart and funny. And I’m learning a lot from him.”

  “You are?”

  “I am. He has a way of taking something complex and making it dead simple. His mother is a teacher, so maybe that’s where he gets it.”

  “He sounds like a heck of a guy,” she paused. “So you’re telling me there isn’t an attraction there? Not even a bit?”

  “I like him a lot, but as a friend. I can’t think of him as more than that.”

  “Audrey, please,” she said, unconvinced. “I’m already half in love with him, based on those pictures alone.”

  “Who are you in love with?” I heard Freddy’s voice in the background.

  Lucy clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops,” she said, her eyes brimming with laughter. She turned her head back. “I’m just chatting to Audrey.”

  Freddy’s goofy face appeared next to hers on the screen a few moments later.

  “Hey, Audrey,” he said with a wave.

  “Hey, Freddy. How’s it going?”

  “Great, can’t complain. We went bowling yesterday. I beat Lucy for the first time.” He beamed as Lucy rolled her eyes.

  “My arm was sore. Your momma made me roll a mountain of dough the day before.”

  “No excuses, babe.” He grinned.

  She gave me a wry smile. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, for as long as I live.”

  He kissed her cheek and playfully ruffled her hair. “Nope, you definitely won’t.”

  I laughed. “Congratulations, Freddy.”

  “Thanks, Audrey. How are you doing all the way over there?”

  “Really good. I’ve made some new friends, and I’ve taken up hiking.”

  “You? Hiking?” He gave me a dubious look.

  “I have pictures to prove it!”

  “Here, babe, check these out.” Lucy showed Freddy the pictures I sent.

  He whistled softly under his breath. “So that’s your new friend, huh?” He teased.

  “Yes, Lucy’s kind of in love with him.” I laughed.

  “I don’t blame her. I think I might be a bit in love with him myself.”

  Every Saturday—rain or shine—Gabe and I went for a hike in the woods. It was something I looked forward to each week. Gabe was always great company. He was such a cheerful person that no matter what mood I was in, he could always wrangle a smile from me.

  During our long hikes, I learned that Gabe was a movie buff. His taste was eclectic. He loved action flicks—anything by Tarantino—but he also loved quirky, introspective films like Being John Malkovich. His absolute favorite was a toss-up between Scarface and Over the Top, the latter being a B-grade movie about an arm-wrestling tournament, starring Sylvester Stallone. We saw it one night at his place, a one-bedroom flat above his uncle’s workshop. It wasn’t a movie I would have picked off the shelf at Blockbuster, but I did find myself enjoying it a lot.

  One Saturday, we had just finished our routine hike and were heading back to Gabe’s car when we were simultaneously struck with a wild craving for quesadillas.

  “Want to go to Fiesta?” he asked. Fiesta was a Mexican place in town.

  “Great idea.”

  “Do you want to drive?”

  “Sure.” He handed me the keys.

  We arrived at Fiesta, and I was delighted to see there was a parking space on the street, right out front.

  “It’s way too tight, Audrey.”

  “I’m going to give it a try.”

  “Okay, but it is really narrow, and this is parallel parking we’re talking about. I don’t think I could get in it, and you know my parking skills are out of this world.”

  I laughed. “Bet you ten bucks I can park it.”

  “I’d feel bad, taking your money.”

  I signaled and began to reverse into the spot, biting my lip in concentration. A few moments later, to Gabe’s surprise, I had perfectly parked his car. He got out, a look of astonishment on his face. I was next to him a few moments later, surveying my handiwork.

  “What did I tell you?” I couldn’t help but gloat.

  “Looks like you’re ready for that test.”

  Less than a week later, Gabe dropped me off at the registry for my driver’s test. I was a bundle of nerves, so he gave me a quick pep talk before wishing me luck and setting off on foot to his uncle’s shop.

  The test itself was a lot easier than I expected. My driving instructor, Bob—a wearied middle-aged man with a handlebar moustache—barely spoke as we drove around the main streets of Delta, along the test track that I had already done a thousand times with Gabe. Every once in a while, he wrote something down on his clipboard.

  When Bob told me I had passed, I couldn’t help but hug him, and he made a half-hearted attempt at reciprocating. When they took my photo, the lady behind the counter had to tell me to stop grinning like a maniac.

  As soon as I left the registry, I drove straight to Rosie’s, honking the horn loudly out front. She came through the doors as I stepped out of Gabe’s car.

  “Congratulations, honey!” Rosie cried, arms open. We hugged on the pavement.

  “Thanks,” I beamed at her.

  “Have you told Gabe the good news yet?”

  “I’m going to surprise him when he gets off work later. We’re having dinner at my place tonight.”

  “Come inside. I made you some lemon tarts.”


  “Okay, I’ll just park Gabe’s car round the back.”

  The diner was empty when I made my way in. I sat at the counter while Rosie busied herself, plating the lemon tarts and pouring freshly brewed coffee into a mug. She set them down in front of me with a smile.

  “Thanks, Rosie.” I could hardly keep the grin off my face.

  “If I had known, I would have baked you a cake.”

  I took a sip of my coffee. “You know you don’t have to do that.”

  She smiled. “So you’re having dinner with Gabe tonight?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been watching those cooking shows that come on late at night, and a few days ago, I made my first dish.”

  “What was it?”

  “Spaghetti with meatballs,” I said, proudly.

  “Sounds delish.”

  “It’s not that difficult, if you get step-by-step instructions. It tasted pretty good.”

  “And that’s what you’re cooking up tonight?”

  “Uh-huh. I’m going to pick up some handmade egg pasta from the deli and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, and I think I’ll splurge on a really good bottle of Pinot.”

  “Sounds like you have a fun night planned.”

  “It’s the least I can do for Gabe—he’s been so great. I mean, if I had never met him, I don’t think I would have done this. He’s been such a good friend.”

  “Friend?” Rosie raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes, Rosie,” I said wryly. “We’re just friends.”

  “You don’t have any feelings for him?”

  I frowned. “Not those kind of feelings. I’m not ready to dive into anything new. Not just yet.”

  “Well, I can say, hand on heart, Gabe has feelings for you. I’ve seen the two of you together. The kid can hardly take his eyes off you.”

  I knew Rosie wasn’t making it up. I sensed that Gabe had feelings for me, and I didn’t want to lead him on. Nor did I want to stop seeing him.