Page 105 of The Sidekick

Chapter Forty

Tera

The decision to avoid the yoga class is easy to make. If I don’t take my name off the roster and just leave the apartment for that hour, Shade will never know. My car has been fixed from its death rattle so he isn’t dropping me off anymore. It’s like kismet. Maybe I can join some other group to socialize.

The thought of facing more animosity is too much. No matter where I go, it seems like a nonstop phenomenon.

What is it about me that everyone hates so much? I just want to get by in life without struggling. Is that so horrible? Why can’t they just ignore the stain in the room and stop trying to scrub it out?

I stare at the new text from Max as I wait for my smoothie, even though it’s become hard for me to find interest in even that food. I know in my head it’s because I’m sinking further into another depressive episode, but I can’t stop it. The affirmations seem more like lies than ever right now.

Max:Good morning.

I don’t know if I want to answer him. The only thing I can think of to text back is that this is not a good morning at all, and he might want to think about going back to bed and skip it for the sake of his sanity. I want to do that.

But today is a yoga day, and I can’t go home. Then I have work, so I’ll have to go back, shower even though I don’t need to, and head out again. I never know when Shade will pop up like the dictator he is just to check on me.

Me:Morning.

Why I settled on one word that sounds passive-aggressive, I don’t know, but I don’t take it back. It’s sent and out there in the universe.

Max: What are you doing?

I’m standing like a useless lump, trying to figure out how I can turn invisible to get through the day.

Me: Nothing much. What about you?

Max: Trying not to think pushy thoughts. The normal.

I can’t help giggling at the text, my heart lightening at the self-deprecating attitude he has. We match each other so well sometimes. My smile trembles as I stare at his name.

My phone rings, interrupting the text thread. It’s a number I don’t recognize, so I’m happy to answer it.

“Hello?” I can’t help laughing at how ridiculous it is that I’m more likely to answer a telemarketer call than a person I know.

I guess the person selling something is surprised at the tone because it’s quiet for long enough that I try again. “Hello?”

The second greeting seems to jar the person on the other end of the line, and a throat clears loud enough my eyes widen. “Ms. Evans, this is Asher Broussard from Evergreen Gym calling. We were wondering if you had decided to -”

I hang up before he can get anything else out. I recognize that voice too well. My nipples have already perked up in response to hearing it, and my face heats in embarrassment.

I hurry to block the number and start praying that there’s only one phone there, so he can’t call back. Now I have a name to go with lickable tattoos and intense eyes that make me melt. I’m so weird. Why can’t I stop being like this?

Asher

She didn’t show up on Thursday. Everyone in the class that stayed looked guilty as fuck while I watched the door, waiting.

My thoughts are concerning as worry begins to sink in.

Who is taking care of her? Max is on a text-only ban, and none of the guys in Muay Thai acted like they knew something might be up on Wednesday.

I try to shake off my insanity. She isn’t mine yet, and none of that is my business.

Fuck, I just said yet.

I debated calling her, but one missed class isn’t a big deal, right? If I call, will she think I’m stalking her? She technically wouldn’t be wrong. That’s what makes the thought worse. Having her see me as some perv, which apparently I now am, makes me settle enough to wait it out despite my gut telling me it’s a mistake.

When she doesn’t come on Tuesday, that sinking feeling comes roaring back. I already have my phone to my ear as I walk out the door, ignoring the other students. Fuck scaring her, she’s scaring me.

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