Page 50 of The Hookup
“I’m mildly horrified.”
“As expected.”
“So, what were you saying about me?” He looked amused.
“Nothing too personal. I was just passing around your dick pic and asking my friends to rate you on a scale of meh to hallelujah.”
He chuckled at that. “Good thing I’ve never actually sent you any dick pics.”
“If you had, you’d get hallelujahs across the board.”
“Thanks for the compliment. I’m sorry to chase off your friends, though. I should have waited until later to call.”
There was something in his voice that made me ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to see you and hear your voice.” After a pause, he said softly, “I’m trying to remember how to live without you.” I knew exactly what he meant.
12
Hal
The closer I got to the end of the school year, the more I started to panic and doubt myself. I ended up sewing my Japanese-modern collection, completely tearing apart, and remaking it, twice. It still didn’t seem good enough, so I kept trying to come up with a more original collection.
The problem was that creativity couldn’t be turned on at will, like a water faucet. It showed up or it didn’t, and the more pressure I was under, the less it flowed.
On a random Tuesday in mid-May, I felt like I was hanging on by a thread. It had been an epically shitty day, and I was mentally and physically exhausted.
Vee and Kit were sipping cocktails in the living room when I got home. Kit had become friends with all of our housemates over the last few weeks, which was good because I was never around to keep him company.
“Hey, there he is,” Vee called, as he raised a glass. “Come join us, Hal. We’ve just invented the Cosmo-colada, and we firmly believe it’s going to sweep the nation.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m wiped out and need to go to bed. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” I was fully aware that it was only eight p.m., but I needed this day to end.
After changing into my most comfortable pajamas, I climbed under the covers and used my laptop to place a video call to Ryder. We’d gotten in the habit of falling asleep together and leaving the call connected all night. It was comforting, and a way to feel close despite the distance.
He answered with, “Hi, baby. You’re early tonight.”
“I know. I really needed to see you.”
“Are you okay?”
I started to reach for my standard reply and tell him everything was fine, but I couldn’t make myself say it. Instead, I shocked both of us by bursting into tears. He sounded alarmed when he asked, “What’s wrong, Hal?”
I choked out, “Nothing. I’m sorry.” Then I began sobbing.
“It’s okay, baby. Let it out.”
He was so patient, speaking to me quietly and reassuringly while I curled up in a ball and cried. It was several minutes before I finally got it under control. When I sat up and wiped my face with some tissues, he said, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“I had such a horrible day. It was a bunch of little things, and one big thing, and I guess I finally reached my breaking point.”
“What happened?”
I sniffed and hugged my knees to my chest. “First, I went and picked up the letter of recommendation from my internship. The designer didn’t have it ready on my last day, but whatever. So, I made a special trip across town to get it, and then it turned out to be completely worthless. It was just a couple of sentences, along the lines of ‘Hal did fine. I didn’t really get to know him, but he seemed adequate.’ That’s it, after six months of being treated like his unpaid personal assistant, running errands, and doinggrunt work because he refused to trust me with anything design related.”
“That sucks.”
“It does, but it wasn’t even the worst thing that happened today. I got fired from my job at the boutique.”
