Page 42 of Unlikely

“Okay, hold up. Let’s back up here for a second,” I say. “What am I missing? Are you trying to tell me you started therapy? Or do I need a therapist?”

This has her laughing. “I may have started a self-help audiobook last night and it’s got me thinking.”

I frown. “What happened to romance audiobooks?”

“I just needed a palate cleanser.”

I gag to be dramatic before asking, “What did it make you think about?”

“Just how sometimes we get stuck in a cycle and we think that’s all it’s ever going to be.”

The accuracy of her words has me running a hand over my face, unable to look at her.

“And I know,” she continues, “that sometimes you don’t give enough attention to your own life, thinking there’s no point because nothing’s going to change.”

“I’m not unhappy with my life,” I interrupt.

She shakes her head. “I never said that. I’m just thinking of how complacent I can be sometimes, not pushing myself, not wanting more, not fighting for something different.” She picks at her cuticles. “Could you imagine me actually putting my money where my mouth is and actually stepping out of my parents’ shadow?”

The question is rhetorical, because we both know where she’s trying to go with this.

“Okay,” I say, surrendering. “Hurry up and get it off your chest.”

“I’m just saying, you’re changing. I can see it every day. Turning those pages till you reach a new chapter, and I can’t wait till you do.”

Emotion lodges itself in my throat, my eyes stinging. I’ve been doing a lot of this lately, my hard exterior cracking, the life I seemed to be content living, suddenly not enough. I try to avert my gaze from hers, picking up pieces of clothing and sorting them into piles as she asked.

“Don’t overthink this thing with Zara.” The warning is clear, even though her voice is soft, and when I cock my head to the side, she adds, “Not any more than you have to. Don’t let it fall apart before it can start, just because you’re too scared to be honest and claim what you want.”

Nina has unknowingly hit the nail on the head, pointing out the exact distinction between Clem and Clementine. The woman I am with everyone else and the woman I am with Zara.

I know I’m changing and shifting, evolving even, but it feels risky, and yet I don’t know why. Nobody has ever said my only purpose in this life is to live for everyone else, and yet that’s the role I’ve pigeonholed myself in, so much so, it’s my only comfort.

Because I don’t know who I am without the foster family, the outdated and unnecessary clothes, and the laundry list of insecurities. This new version of me is still a stranger. One I like, one I want to become familiar with, but one who means letting go of things I didn’t think I ever could.

I know Nina is right, but this is already too much for me. Too much thinking, too much introspection, just… too much.

“While I appreciate the free therapy”—I throw the t-shirt in my hand at her, hoping to derail her focus—“let’s bring back Nina the romance audiobook listener, yeah?”

“You’re going to regret you ever said that,” she warns, resting the shirt in her lap. “Because Nina the romance audiobook listener and self-help Nina are both all about that happy ever after.”

14

ZARA

“Why do you always wait until the last minute to pack?” I ask Raine.

“Because it’s truly so much better when you do it for me,” she retorts smugly.

“The only reason I’m even entertaining this idea is because I want to talk to you about something before you go.”

This has her whole demeanor changing, and my stomach twists at her assumption that it’s bad. I reach for her shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. I just wanted to tell you what I’m doing this weekend while you’re gone.”

At this she perks up. “Is Aubrey sleeping over?”

I sigh and lower myself onto her nearby desk chair. “Why are you so fixated on Aubrey sleeping over?”

Her shoulders quickly rise and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know, I guess it makes me feel less guilty for leaving you alone.”

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