Page 97 of My Cosplay Escape
I was planning on heading out early to lift weights. If I hustle, I might be able to get some core work done too.
The wind rustles the leaves of the little Meyer lemon tree. “Actually, yeah. A quiet lunch sounds nice.” I join Mom on the chaise and show her my search results.
She laughs. “That’s my girl. When are you working? I want to come escape. I’ll bring Brent and Jen. No, I’ll bring my book club ladies!”
“You sure you aren’t mortified? Mine isn’t the only skintight costume.”
“I’m just glad to know you wear something else besides a hoodie.”
* * *
It turns out that being honest is habit-forming. I take great delight in calling Daniel overseas before my walk to the gym. It’s three a.m. his time. He’s either sleeping or clubbing, and either way, I don’t care.
K-pop blasts in the background when he answers. “Did you sign the papers?” he says by way of greeting.
“No, Daniel. No. Turns out I’m not cool with everything. No. I’m not going to sign some stupid contract from your daddy or your editor. But thanks for asking.”
The music becomes more muffled on the other end. I can hear my ex working up a whine, but I don’t give him the chance to let it out.
“You either own that every word of your lame-ass book is fiction, or I email your daddy right now and tell him about Tiffany and Charlotte and all of your other camping buddies.”
“Forgiveness…” I can hear his teeth clenching even on the crackly international call. “Forgiveness is a higher road. I chose to forgive and forget. I thought you did too.”
I crack open the burgundy leather-bound book I dug out of Daniel’s boxes. “Molly Brightmore, is it? Your editor? She came to our wedding. I’m staring at her name in our guest book now.”
“I can’t believe you kept all that junk,” Daniel says in his nastiest voice.
“Oh look, here’s Tiffany too. And goodness, Charlotte and Dixie came alone. Didn’t remember that, but there they are, with cutie hearts and x’s and o’s all over the page.” I sit up in Mom’s office chair. “Listen, why don’t I send Molly Brightmore an email and let her know that if she publishes your book and it has me in it, she can expect to get sued for invasion of privacy, defamation, and anything else a good lawyer can come up with.”
“People can write what they want to,” Daniel whines.
“Sure. Write whatever you want about yourself, but not about me. And I have a feeling that your daddy, the lawyer, is going to have the last word on this one. Like he always does. Enjoy Africa, Daniel. If you ever contact me about something this stupid again, I’m going to call your dad’s office and ask how restraining orders work. I’ve got his website pulled up now.” I recite his dad’s office number. “Should we give Daddy Ray a ring and make this a conference call?”
Daniel quickly hangs up, and I’m about to close the Web browser on my phone but decide to screenshot a picture of Daddy Ray’s contact info. His mailing address could come in handy.
* * *
Life feels less frantic. Maybe that’s what happens when you stop vaulting a wall and using back doors on your commute. Or break up some of your runs with a slower walk on the beach. Or take time for some stretching while the surf plays tag with your toes. I must say, I don’t mind this pace. It’s easy to see how this is an upgrade, and I’m ready for more upgrades.
I’m back in the waiting room of the student wellness center, the one with the aggressively gurgling fountain.
“How did it go?” Brad asks, ushering me into his office.
“It was no big. I’m ready for more homework.”
“Great.”
“What’s next?” I ask.
“You decide what the next step is.”
“But—”
“You’re not crazy, Sarah. You never have been. You’ve got this.” Brad assures me that his door is always open, but the message is clear. I’m a big girl now, and I know what I have to do. And while I’m not ready to tell Adam just yet, I am ready to take baby steps and make a plan.
I start small. I have no choice but to start small. Adam’s been a no-show since Sabine “stood him up.” I can’t say I blame him. I find Vanessa as she’s streaking her pigtails blue and red before our next night of cosplay begins.
“Vanessa?” I say.
