Page 35 of Reclaim

“What? You think he wants to swap dinner recipes?”

“He might,” I say softly. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. We agreed this wasn’t our time.”

“You mean you told him it wasn’t, and he agreed?” There’s no denying Taylah found her calling in law. She could argue her point underwater.

“He didn’t put up much of a fight.”

“Again, just my objective, yet slightly professional opinion. The guy has just come out of jail, he’s got an education he can’t use, a curfew that means he can never take you out, and he’s probably taking his provisional licence test as we speak, in order to start driving. All of this at the age of thirty--I wouldn’t think I was good enough for anybody else either.” She quickly grabs some M&M Peanuts and throws them in her mouth before continuing, “You have nothing in common yet you bumped into each other. How do you say no to the universe?”

Rolling my eyes at her, I reach for my wine glass and let the crisp liquid ease my doubts.

“No.” She points her finger at me. ”Don’t do that. You’re twenty-eight years old, and you’re effortlessly beautiful. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“It doesn’t work out,” I state obviously.

“That happened with your last boyfriend, and you survived didn’t you?”

“Why are we even friends?” I snit. “I can’t even contact him. He doesn’t have a phone number.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Emerson. Where there’s a will there’s a way.” She reaches over and swipes my phone from the coffee table. As she types in my passcode, I regret the day I gave her access to my life.

“What are you doing?”

“I knew you’d have it in here.” Turning the screen to face me, I see Hendrix’s contact info on the screen. “Ask him for Jagger’s number.”

“No.”

“I’m giving you one chance to word this message yourself; otherwise, I will. Which one will it be?”

“Anyone tell you you’re a fucking bully?” I snatch the phone from her and stare at the open message. “I hate you. Seriously, fucking. Hate. You.”

“You’ll get over it,” she says with certainty. “I’m not going to sit by and let you miss out on what could be the greatest thing in your life.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Hey, at least you got to fuck a hot guy.”

12

Jagger

Itoe my steel cap boots off at the front door before heading inside. It’s Friday afternoon, and I just completed my first full week of working. I can’t deny the difference employment has made on my mood in such a short time. The feeling of helplessness fades as each day passes. I’m meeting new people who aren’t asking me questions about where I was and how it feels to be out. They don’t know me, they don’t have any expectations, and they aren’t walking around with kid gloves behind me worried about my transition. It’s the fresh start I need.

The house is empty, but Hendrix’s car is outside, so I know he’s home. I pull out my wallet and grab a few crisp notes from my first paycheck and leave them in the middle of the dining table. It feels good to finally be able to contribute something worthwhile.

My phone vibrates, and I drag it out of my pocket to see who it is. A text from Sasha appears on the screen, anxiety immediately settling in my chest. Something must be wrong. It’s been two weeks since I gave her the number, and she’s never used it.

Sasha: Bad day at school. Can we come over?

My fingers can’t type fast enough while my mind goes into overdrive worrying how upset Dakota must be for Sasha to reach out.

Me: Yes. Is she okay?

Sasha: She will be.

“Hey,” Hendrix says, interrupting my panicking.

“Hey.” I place the phone on the table and empty out my pockets. “That was Sasha. She’s going to bring Dakota over tonight because she had a bad day at school.”

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