Page 4 of A Play For The Heart
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Maren comments, noticing my reaction to the view, “Makes the creepy lobby totally worth it.”
I nod silently as I continue to follow her in the direction of my room. Apparently, I’ve lost all ability to speak and form coherent responses.
Just great. Fantastic.
As she opens the door to my room and leads me inside, my common sense seems to catch up with me.
Have I gone insane? I must have lost my mind somewhere between here and Indiana.There is no way that moving across the country was a good idea.What idiot convinced me to do this?
Sitting down on the bed, I rapidly descend into a panicked state becauseIwas the idiot who convinced myself that moving to the other side of the country was a fabulous idea and a fun adventure.
A. Fun. Adventure.
Going to an amusement park is a fun adventure. Spending the day shopping is a fun adventure. Packing up your belongings and hauling them across the country is NOT a fun adventure. It’s insane. That's what it is.
I know exactly two people in the entire city—three if you count my new roommate—and I hate the smell of rain, which is a nightmare considering it rains nearly half the year in Seattle. It smells like worms and dead people. All rain-scented candles should be banned. Right as I begin to truly spiral about my recent life decisions, Maren interrupts my train of thought.
“I know you just arrived and may want to get settled, but if you want, we could grab dinner?” she asks, leaning against the doorframe.
I pause for a moment, considering. I’m not sure I have the social battery for dinner, seeing as I was so close to losing my shit only thirty seconds ago, but I also do not want to sit in my room and contemplate all my life choices. Ultimately, a potentially awkward dinner sounds better than being left alone with my thoughts. “That would be great,” I respond, fiddling with the edges of the mattress.
Oh good, I can still speak.
“Awesome, I know this great Thai place right down the road, let me know when you’re ready to go.”
A bell rings as Maren and I enter a small Thai restaurant just a few blocks from our apartment and settle at a small table close to the window. Food sizzles from the kitchen and chatter fills the space. Right as we sit down, a waiter comes by with water.
“Hey Maren, long time no see. Want the usual?” he asks, winking as he makes his way over. Maren looks over at me with a sheepish grin, her cheeks a soft pink.
“Yeah, thanks, Eric.” She throws him a grateful smile. “I come here a lot. Know what you want?”
I pretend to look over the menu. When I go out to eat, I like to look at the menu beforehand. Having to decide on the spot is too much pressure. I choke every time and order chicken tenders. Impossible at a Thai restaurant. Since Maren didn’t mention the name of the restaurant, I had to do some quick cyberstalking. Having chosen the pad Thai before we even left the house, I tell the waiter—Eric—my order, I hand my menu back to him and turn towards Maren.
“So,” Maren starts from across the table, “what made you move to Seattle?” Thankfully, she initiates the conversation since I’m not confident in my ability to ask coherent questions at this point in the day.
“I got a job working at this non-profit called GameChangers,” I explain, playing with my condensation on the water glass, “they provide sports and other after-school programs to kids from lower-income families who may not be able to afford other extracurricular programs or after-school childcare.”
“Impressive,” she nods, taking a sip of water, “Do you know anyone else in the city, or did you move here on your own?”
I pause, unsure of how I want to respond to the question. The rational, normal response would be to tell her that my boyfriend and best friend both live in Seattle and play for the Seattle Mavericks. However, the idea of telling her that has my stomach rioting. While Maren doesn’t strike me as someone who would care (although it's hard to tell from knowing her for five hours), I don’t want to worry that our friendship is due to the fact both the people I know here are professional athletes. I want her to like me, not who I know. I was burned once before, and it broke something inside of me. Opened a part of me that questions my worth. Not something I want to experience again.
“My boyfriend and best friend actually both live in Seattle so when I got the job offer, it made sense to make the move.”
It's not technically a lie.
She offers an understanding nod, gearing up to ask another question. Right as she begins to speak, Eric comes back to our table with food, allowing me to take a breath.
We both thank him and begin to dig into our dishes. After her first bite, Maren lets out the loudest moan I may have ever heard. My eyes go wide as I watch her devour the food in front of her. Part of me feels like I'm interrupting a private moment. “The food is amazing, I basically foodgasm every time I’m here.”
I have no response to that, so I decide to ignore it entirely.
“What do you do for work?” I ask, taking a bite of my pad Thai.
Holy shit, this is incredible. Totally understand the moaning now.
“I study the impacts of climate change on different marine ecosystems in the Pacific Northwest,” she says between bites.
A lightbulb goes off in my head. “So, you know about whale-watching tours then?”
