Page 146 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

What if I fail?The question taps me on the shoulder, begging for my attention.

“You won’t fail,” Maya says. “You were born for this.”

“You really were,” Taylor agrees.

I sit there, listening to them, these three amazing, smart, and strong women. I’d spent months comparing myself to them, assuming I knew the feelings behind their fearlessness, but the truth is, I didn’t.

And I didn’t ask.

I held myself back from them, when actually we’re really all the same.

“I’m terrified to be a mayor’s wife,” Maya admits. She takes a long drink of her soda through a straw. “Politics aside, people are just brutal to public figures. I know it’s a small town and everything, but that makes it even worse. I mean, everyone knew me before Matty. Will any of them take me seriously?”

“I can’t believe this whole time I thought I was the only one,” I say.

“I can’t either,” Taylor says. “I’ve been freaking out since I found out I was pregnant.”

“You’re all scared too,” I say, marveling at the revelation.

“Everyone’sa little scared, Rosie,” Marnie says. “Even the people who seem like they know what they’re doing all the time.”

“Somehow, I convinced myself I was the only screwup,” I say.

Maya laughs. “Do you even know me?”

“You own your own business,” I say.

“That Matty helped me buy.” She looks a little embarrassed.

“Look, Rosie, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Taylor says. “Because the truth is, you can tell us anything. Even if youwerethe only one who was a first-class disaster, which you are not, we would love you because of who you are.”

“That’s what friends do,” Marnie adds.

I’ve been so stupid. I was so worried about what they would think. So worried I was letting them—everyone—down, and so embarrassed by my own situation that I let it all keep me isolated. Lonely.

Now I see all the ways my friends and I are alike.

Battling fears and worries. Navigating joy and hurt and disappointment and excitement. Moving through each chapter of life as best we can.

None of us have it figured out.

Maya is right. In a way, we’re all pretending. Not because we want to keep ourselves hidden, but because we just don’t know yet who we’re supposed to be. Or maybe we’re afraid of change.

“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly.

They all look at me.

“For what?” Taylor asks, her mascara a wet line of sludge underneath her eyes.

“For not trusting you guys with the truth,” I say. “I was too embarrassed to admit I’m not perfect.”

They all burst out laughing. “Uh, we always knew you weren’t perfect, Rosie,” Maya says.

I laugh with them, aware that there’s a lump in my throatthat’s going to demand some attention, and as I do, my phone dings with a new email alert.

I look down and see it’s from Britta Shockley.

“Everything good, Rosie?” Marnie asks.

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