Page 16 of The First Love Myth

Cecilia

The clock ticks another minute past eight. Tension settles in my back.Relax, I chide myself, forcing my shoulders away from my ears. This is fine. More than fine. It’s only a quarter after eight. I don’t have to be at the airport for another hour. The car service isn’t even here yet. I tell myself these truths as I read the same line in the newspaper over again. It’s no use. I hate being late for anything. And even if I’m not technically late for anything at the moment, my schedule is off. My Uber is supposed to be here in ten minutes, and my girlfriend is still blow-drying her hair, which takes her fucking forever. Not that I can’t technically leave without saying goodbye, but that’s too dickish, even for me.

I top off my coffee from the french press and flip to the next page of the morning paper that I still have delivered. There’s something calming about reading actual newsprint. Maybe it’s the lack of backlighting and white space that fill the rest of my day. I read one article then another. I flip another page. Finally, the bathroom door screeches open. I will get around to fixing that. Steam billows into the kitchen, carrying Evie with it.

Auburn hair falls in loose curls around her face. A few strands stick to her cheek. She toys with the buttons of her blouse, exposing the lacy bra underneath that should be covered by a camisole. Evie never worries about such things. A fact that makes her damn sexy. I’ll be daydreaming of the supple curvesof my girlfriend’s breasts the entire flight now. My shoulders relax a fraction of an inch. Desire rumbles low in my belly and fissures out through my fingertips. I pull her in for a kiss, letting it linger and play and grow. My fingers trace the swell of her breasts. Evie sighs against my lips, and any frustrations about the late start to my morning vanish.

“I’m so sorry,” Evie says, her hands still resting above the waist of my pants. Her fingers trail circles along my skin, sending sparks through my entire body. “Butsomeonekept me up late.”

I smirk. It’s too hard to stay angry at someone who counsels young children. It’s even harder when their beauty bowls you over, and their touch sets you on fire. Which is exactly how I feel all the time—lost in a stormy sea with Evie as my beacon in the mist. When this happened and how I let it happen, I have no idea. It’s my life’s mission to not let anyone get this close, and yet Evie has burrowed deep. No matter how hard I push her away, she is there, and she asks for so little in return. My mind knows it’s time to extract myself from this situation or risk losing a piece of myself. But I have no idea how to do that. None of my normal tactics are working, and I’m not masochistic enough to force my hand. “I needed last night to last me my whole trip.”

“I could come with you, you know.”

I step away from her. She offered before, but I can’t. Evie hasn’t even met my family. I’m actually pretty sure they think we broke up since I rarely talk about her. So to bring her to comfort my sister in her time of need? Though I suppose meeting my girlfriend of a year would help raise Liz’s spirits.

“You have work, and I don’t know how long I’ll be there.”

“I have vacation time.”

True.

My phone buzzes with a notification that my Uber is here. And dammit if I don’t want her to climb into that car with me. “It’s a little late to get a ticket.”

I hurriedly pour the rest of the coffee into a to-go cup, add sugar and a splash of milk, and hand it to Evie. She takes it with a sly smile and a warmness to her eyes. “Let me worry about that,” she says.

“Evie...” My phone buzzes again. Apparently, I have an impatient driver who will absolutely charge me a waiting fee.

"You go, Cee. I’ll clean up and then lock the door behind me.”

“Thank you.” I kiss her lightly and then shoulder my purse and grab for the handle of my suitcase. I stop at the door and turn back to my girlfriend, ignoring the buzzing of my phone. “I guess I’ll see you in New York?”

She grins at me over her shoulder. “Yes, you will.”

Chapter 15

Zoey

Tears fall down my temples and past my ears. My hands shake. My breathing is labored and too quick. A weight sits on my chest. I roll over, my cheek hitting the damp sheets. How long have I been crying? Have I been dreaming of him again? Of a different outcome to that first kiss by the pool? To a time before I knew betrayal? I can’t remember, but that must be the case. I hiccup around another breath and try to calm my body. I’m not a stranger to panic attacks, but I fucking hate them. I hate that Andrew Singer is the cause of them now. No one deserves that power over me.

I put my earbuds in, finding my favorite Wilderness Weekend song, and let the music wash over me. Slowly, my hands stop shaking, my breathing normalizes, and my chest doesn’t feel like it’s being crushed by a boulder. Tears still fall, but they are always the last to go. I let them come. I welcome the heartache because anything is better than the crushing weight of devastation. I breathe with the song, letting the music soothe my heart and the lyrics my mind.

I’ve been to enough therapy to know that panic attacks are a perfectly normal reaction to the shock of loss and betrayal I experienced. I know how to manage and avoid them. At least when I’m awake. Mommy issues and two sets of siblings whom I barely know—Liz being the sole exception—forced me to dealwith the weight of grief and loneliness. But none of that has been like this. This instant, soul-crushing loss.

Stop.I sit up, waiting to make sure my head is clear, and then walk to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face.I’m fine.This is fine. I can’t ward off my subconscious. In the mirror, a pale stranger greets me. Rejecting Andrew’s advances that night felt empowering. I woke up the next day proud and feeling better about my situation. If Liz can break away from Julian, whom she’s been with for my whole life, I can get over Andrew. We weren’t even together for two years. In the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing. But it was everything.

After my rejection text, Andrew went radio silent. Haley went on a cruise with her family, and Becca returned to her love bubble. Liz spent her free time looking at apartments and then buying furniture for her new apartment, reacquainting herself with Princeton, and talking on the phone with her other sister. So now, five days after I fearlessly told Andrew no, I can’t breathe from the sheer loneliness of my existence. I’m dreaming about him. Every song makes me think of him. Every day, I have to go to the field where we first kissed and walk the halls where our love story flourished. There’s no escape. And no more distractions.

I know who I am. Zoey Reid, the girl not good enough, whose own siblings only tolerate me because we share DNA. The girl who you fuck but don’t marry, the state record holder who hasn’t even tried out for the Bellewood track team. Zoey Reidhadpotential. So much potential. But she would never be enough.Iwill never be enough.

I force out a long breath as my chest constricts, the vise on my heart tightening another notch. My cheeks are drenched in fresh tears.No. No.I cannot have a Zoey spiral.Recognize the thoughts as false.My therapist’s words come back to me.Erase them. If you can’t erase them, flip them.I conjure the excitedfaces of my younger siblings when I step out of the airport each summer. I think of Liz and Becca and Haley. I am not alone.

“You almost done in there?”

I jump at Dad’s voice on the other side of the door. Our mornings don’t often overlap, but Liz’s presence and now absence have affected him too. He’s home more and not just in residence but here, making conversation, asking questions, laughing. It’s been a nice change of pace. I dab at my cheeks, knowing my eyes are a lost cause. There’s no way to hide the puffiness or redness. But my dad isn’t one to press when there are tears involved.

“Sorry, Dad,” I say, opening the door.

He takes in my complexion and the rhythm of my breathing. “You okay, Zo?”

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