Page 25 of Sparks
“I don’t want him to cheat,” I said.
Holly shook her head. “If he’s a so-called man of honor then hewon’tcheat. That doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s a conundrum,” Cheryl said. “It’s like they are loyal to the relationship itself rather than the person. It’s usually the woman who has to end it. Happy or not, those kinds of men will often just tough it out, especially if there are kids involved.”
“And be miserable for life?” I asked, feeling ill.
“They just cling to the good moments,” Cheryl said.
Holly reached for her door handle. “You missed your calling as a psychologist. Watch for the pile over here.”
Holly headed inside, walking the narrow strip of sidewalk that had been shoveled. Our street was eerily quiet. Usually at this time, early evening, there were people going in and out of the laundromat and random shops that lined the Jersey City street. Beneath our apartment, on the end, was a Latin dance club that was hopping every Thursday through Saturday, but it was Sunday, so all was quiet.
Cheryl reached up and squeezed my shoulder. “I know it’s disappointing. It sounds like he’s one of your soul mates by the way you connected. But there will be others. In the end, you have to listen to your intuition and make decisions you can live with.” She gave my shoulder one last squeeze. “I’ll spritz your pillow with lavender tonight, ‘kay?”
“’Kay, thanks.” I sat there a second after she’d gone out. I wished she hadn’t mentioned the phrase “soul mate.” I’d never believed in that sort of crap, but the connection I felt while talking to Shawn had definitely made that stupid phrase cross my mind. It felt like more than sexual chemistry. I’d never in my life clicked with someone so fast before, and so thoroughly.
Cheryl was right, though. I needed to make decisions I could live with, and I couldn’t live with myself if I tried to wreck another woman’s relationship. I needed to delete Shawn Fowler’s number and forget he existed. After all, I had Sparks now, and the dating pool in this area was pretty big. I just needed to focus on that.
It’s good that we were all young and fit-ish because our apartment had no elevator. I picked up my suitcase and trudged up the three steep flights to the top floor of the old building. The door had been left open a crack for me, so I pushed it with my foot, which was still wet and frozen. I couldn’t wait to get out of this uniform and into something comfortable.
“Oh, my gawwwwwd!” sang Beth in her sweet voice, jumping up from the couch when she saw me. Of all the roommates to be at the crash pad today, I kind of wished it wasn’t her.
“Hey,” I said, rolling my bag to the long hall. The apartments in these old brownstones were narrow, but long with high ceilings. This particular one was perfect for our situation because it had a makeshift closet along the hall—shelving on top with wooden bars beneath for us to hang all of our uniforms. It would have been an eyesore to others, but it was a blessing to us. I got to my small section and bent to open a plastic drawer and pull out leggings and an oversized sweatshirt.
“So?” Beth leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. She had that impish look of delight in her eyes. I had a feeling the dating app had been her idea.
I felt self-conscious changing in front of her, although I didn’t feel that way about the other girls. Beth was beyond tiny. Like, five feet tall and eight-five pounds, tiny. She had freckles and a pointy chin with huge brown eyes, pouty lips, and a precious nose. Oh, and boobs. Her brown hair flipped upward where it met her shoulders. She could be a pixie.
Here’s the thing about pixies. Remember Tink in the Peter Pan cartoon? Super cute, right? Remember when she tried to kill Wendy Lady because she was jealous? Beth was Tink. The first time I went out with Beth was during flight attendant training in Houston. It was me, Beth, Holly, and Cheryl. Our other four roommates had finished the training session before ours. Anyway, we were all broke. You don’t get paid for training. You get a per diem check. Our hope was that men would buy drinks for us. I know, I know, so trashy, but alas. I remember standing at the end of the bar with Beth, both of us laughing about something, and then she’d taken my arms and repositioned me a little, saying, “Don’t move.”
I’d been like, “Huh?” At first, I thought she was trying to hide from someone, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw her reach into the bartender’s tip jar and pull out a handful of bills.
When she rushed away, laughing and elated, I’d chased her, horrified.
“What are you doing, Beth? Put that back!”
I still remembered how the smile fell from her face as she turned angry.
“Would you fucking relax? There’s so much money in there. They’ll never notice.”
“That’s not the point! Have you ever been a server? They earned that.”
Beth had rolled her eyes and said, “Fine. Don’t drink tonight, then.”
And I hadn’t. I’d searched all over for Holly and Cheryl but couldn’t find them. So, I’d left the bar by myself and walked five blocks back to the hotel. Holly and Cheryl had not been happy, but it turned out they were smoking up around the side of the building with two hot guys, so they couldn’t even yell at me.
We’d since forgiven and moved on—I could never stay mad long—but I’d been wary of Beth since.
I changed quickly, glancing up to see her eyes on my body while my pants were stripped off, a pleasant smile on her beautiful face. Here’s the thing. I loved myself. I really did. But I also knew I didn’t have the type of body society thought of as beautiful. I wasn’t quite plus size, but I was pear-shaped. I’ve never had a thigh gap and never would. Lately there had been a big-booty trend, thank God, but not everyone was on board. I knew when Beth looked at me she saw the few dimples on my legs and felt bad for me, regardless of how much I tried to own it and not care.
“Have you started talking to any guys yet?” she asked.
“Um, one.”
“Ooh, show me! I’ve dated nearly all the guys in a twenty-mile radius, or at least talked to them, so I can let you know who the pros are.” She waggled her eyebrows in delight as I tried not to cringe. She lightly backhanded my arm. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you’re all private and shit, but it’s time to live a little. Come on!” She took my hand and dragged me into the living room, plopping us both down on the secondhand squeaky couch.
I really shouldn’t have been such a pushover, but I did kind of want to know which guys she’d been with so I could weed them out. Also, as much as I hated to admit it, Beth’s attention was like sunlight. She gave off immense energy that I wanted to soak up, even though I knew that energy could switch from positive to negative in a heartbeat and I’d be stuck sucking sludge deep into my pores and then feeling like shit.
