My Own Path

As embarrassing as it sounds, I’m on a post-date high for Sunday and most of Monday.  Work, though, wipes the giddy smile off of my face pretty quickly.  Don’t get me wrong—I love my job.  I love working in fashion, and I love writing, but my position itself rapidly becomes tedious.  I’m anxious to move on, to have slightly more important work to do, like Abby.  She’s just a couple years older than me (and engaged!  I still can’t stop thinking about that) and already handling much bigger projects than I do.  She never gets coffee for our boss, to say the least.

Anyway, by the time Wednesday evening rolls around I’m more than ready for the weekend.  After work I stop by the gym and decide to grab a smoothie.  Maybe not the healthiest dinner, but it’s almost seven and I’m craving fruit.  As soon as I walk through the door, I gasp and have to cover my mouth.  It’s Liam, Marie’s now-ex. 

He’s standing in line with a girl.  And it’s only been a week since he and Marie broke up.  I mean, I know I suggested a girl’s night, but Marie would never be on a date again so soon!  And by the way Liam’s fingertips rest gently on this girl’s lower back, I know this is no friendly smoothie run.     

Quickly, I dart in line.  It’s too late to turn around and leave, and I’m hoping he doesn’t spot me.  Luckily there are three customers in between Liam and I, because I’m certain he’d recognize me.  We’ve met multiple times and I’m in no mood for an awkward conversation. 

He and his lady friend order and step to the side to wait.  Anxiously, I play with my phone, debating whether or not I should tell Marie.  I decide not to, because it’s not worth the drama.  I think back to her crying at the restaurant last week; the breakup was so sudden and so recent that it would be almost cruel to mention Liam to her.  However, I do text Kolby.

“Ran into Liam at Smoothie King,” I type, glad for the distraction as the line moves slightly forward.  “Trying super hard to ignore him and hoping that he doesn’t spot me.”  I send the text and slide my phone into my purse. 

Just as I’m about to order, I see Liam and the girl leave out of the corner of my eye.  I snatch my phone back out and take a quick photo of them.  His hand is no longer on her back, but they’re walking close together, their steps in stride.  My picture turns out a little blurry but it’s clear who it is. 

“Um.”  I turn back to the cashier, who looks bewildered and slightly creeped out. 

            “Sorry,” I say breezily.  “An ex.  You know how it is.”  She laughs a little awkwardly and I order my mango-strawberry smoothie, extra protein. 

            I think about Liam the whole way home, glad that we hadn’t seen each other.  That would have been so Lifetime-movie drama.  Once I’m in my apartment I see that Kolby texted me back.  “What??  Did he see you?  What was he doing?”

            My fingers twiddle above the screen before I respond.  I don’t want her to tell Marie that Liam was with another girl, but I can’t lie.  “He was with some girl.  Don’t tell Marie.”

            Kolby responds immediately.  “A pretty one?  Maybe it was his sister.”

            “Maybe.  And I didn’t see much.  She’s blonde.”

            “Damn those blondes,” Kolby texts back.  I roll my eyes.  Kolby is, of course, a blonde herself. 

            I flop on my couch and toss my phone to the floor, hoping that I didn’t stir up some drama.  Even though Columbus is the most populated city in Ohio, I forget what a small town it can be sometimes.  It was just so bizarre running into Liam and that girl—especially since he and Marie had just broken up, and I haven’t seen him in months. 

            I wake up to Emma shaking me.  “Wake up!  Do you wanna go out tonight??” 

            I guess I’d fallen asleep without realizing it.  Groggily, I sit up and rub at my eyes, smearing my mascara leftover from work, no doubt.  “Huh?” I ask. 

            “My shift got canceled.  No one was there.  Wanna go out?” 

            I look up at her.  “Em, it’s a Wednesday night.”  She shrugs. 

            “So?”

            “We aren’t in college anymore,” I point out.

            “So?” she repeats. 

            I laugh, a little more awake now.  “Okay, okay.  Why not?”

            Half an hour later we’re waltzing down the sidewalk in the Short North, the area in which we live.  There are crazy good bars and restaurants all around, and we stop in at the Pint House for their amazing specials.  Even for a Wednesday night, the place is packed. 

            “Cam and I went here a few weeks ago,” I tell Emma.  “Actually on Valentine’s Day.  It was full of college kids.” 

            She shakes her hair, loose curls flying side to side, and then takes a sip of her beer.  “When we were in college we never came down here.  Cabs are too expensive, and who wants to walk over a mile and a half each way?”

            I laugh.  “You make it sound like we were in college eons ago!”

            “Well, we kinda were,” she points out.  I try to change the subject—moving on from college was bittersweet, but I don’t really miss it.  Look forward, never back. 

            “See any cute guys?”  I stir my whiskey sour with the little straw I was given.  Those straws are pretty much useless, but I always drink out of them for some reason.  I like to think it helps me pace myself.  Maybe I’m not as far out of college and binge-drinking old ways as I’d like to think.

            Emma hasn’t answered, so I glance at her.  She’s blushing.  I quickly follow her gaze.  “Who is that?”

            I take one look at the tall, crew-neck-wearing guy across the bar and it hits me immediately.  “That’s him?” I ask, my voice shrill.  “Is that him?!”

            Emma shushes me, her face now turning an interesting shade of purple.  “Do you have to be so loud?” she hisses. 

            “What’s the big deal?” I ask.  “You’re acting like a middle schooler with a crush.  But it is him, isn’t it?  DJ?”

            “Yes, it’s DJ,” she says.  Her 21-year-old coworker who keeps flirting with her.   It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Emma this way.  She’s doing that thing where she wipes down the front of her jeans with her palms, as though they’re sweaty or she has something on them that she can’t quite get off. 

            Something dawns on me.  “You knew he’d be here,” I say.

            She nods.  “Well, yeah, Ryan.  He got called off too.”

            “Go say something!  I want to meet him anyway.”  I march on over to this DJ kid.  It’s the first time I’ve seen him, and as the two of us near the table where he’s sitting, I notice he’s not much like Emma’s type.  She prefers a slightly alternative, grungy guy who can grow nice, even scruff.  DJ is almost preppy, with dark blond hair and a robust complexion.  He’s cute. 

            “Hey,” Emma says, sitting down across from him.  A huge smile breaks on DJ’s face, and I can see immediately that he does like her.  Emma gestures towards me.  “This is my best friend and roommate, Ryan.”

            DJ sizes me up—hard to do when he’s almost a foot taller than me.  “Ryan, huh?  Emma’s told me about you.   I gotta admit, at first I thought her roommate was a dude.”

            “I get that a lot,” I say.  “Emma’s told me about you, too.”

            Emma kicks me under the table.  I smile to hide a wince.  “Anyone want another round?”

            Forty-five minutes later, DJ and Emma are deep in discussion.  She’s a few beers in, and ten minutes ago we all took shots together.  Em can definitely hold her alcohol, but even she looks pretty buzzed.  I can’t help but watch her body language—she keeps touching DJ’s arm and shoulder and leaning in when she says something, as though she’s sharing a secret.  It’s no wonder he’s fallen for her. 

            I, on the other hand, have been talking to his friend (from school.  Oh god.  I feel like an old lady) Blake or Brian or some B name.  He’s a nice enough kid, but so young, and I keep thinking about work in the morning.  I should bring in coffee for Abby and my boss, I think.

            “What?” Brian or Blake asks.  Oops.  I must have said that out loud. 

            “Nothing, I’m just getting tired and I was thinking about what I had to do for work tomorrow.”

            “You still get coffee for people at work?” his tone is suddenly condescending.  “Isn’t that what interns do?”

            I can’t help but bristle a little.  “No, not really.  And it’s not like bringing in coffee is my job.  I’m just doing it to be nice.” 

            He shrugs.  “Whatever you say.  I wouldn’t put up with that.  Act like the intern and they’ll treat you like one.”

            “Excuse me?”  Normally I’m not a confrontational person, but I feel as though I’m being attacked.  The booze might be making me bolder as well.  “First of all, you’re what, 21?  22?  Either way, you’re still in school.  I don’t care what your major is, but you have no idea how the corporate world works.  Also, you don’t know me at all, or my job.  So until you work forty plus hours a week, I don’t want to hear it.”

            “Actually, I have an offer working for GE next year.  I’m an engineer.  I’ll be making more in a year than you will in two.” 

            I’ve never done this before, but before I can talk myself out of it I splash the remainders of my drink on the front of his shirt.  There were only a few drops left, and some ice cubes, but it felt good anyway.  “Oops,” I say in a monotone voice, and march away to go find Emma.

            “I’m headed home,” I say after tapping her on the shoulder.  She looks rosy and verrrry happy.  “I’ll see you soon?  It was nice meeting you, DJ,” I say, flashing him a smile. 

            “You too,” he says.  “Hey, where’s—”

            “Back there,” I interrupt.  “Anyway, have fun!”

            On my way home, I’m still fuming.  Maybe what I did to that kid was rude, but he deserved it.  Brian or Bruce or Blake or whatever—B names suit him, because he’s acting like a little bitch.  Talking down about someone’s job is never okay, and I’d gotten enough shit in college about majoring in fashion studies and English.  I’d worked hard to get where I am today.  Yeah, maybe it’s not my dream job, but who says your first job has to be your career?  I’m paying for my rent, food, car, everything on my own, and I haven’t asked my parents for monetary help ever since graduation.  So what if I’m not a doctor or a high-powered attorney?  I’m following my own path, and that’s something to be proud of.