I want to design, and I know it will take time, I was just hoping for a little positive feedback.
888
When I get home, I make myself a cup of coffee. Curling up on my couch, I call Evie. Leigh is either at work, or sleeping, so I don’t even try calling her.
After a few rings, Evie answers. It sounds like I woke her.
“Hi, were you sleeping?”
“No,” she groans. “I’m sick. Only I would get the damn flu in the middle of summer.”
“Oh no. Did you get some meds?”
“Yeah. I’m going to stay in bed all weekend. Hopefully, it’s gone by Monday.”
“What’s happening on Monday?” I ask as I slowly sip my coffee.
“I have an interview. I really need the job. I can’t keep working as a waitress.”
Evie refused to come to New York with us. After we graduated, she dropped the bomb that she was moving to LA. Rhett was furious.
Now I understand why she did it. For years she hoped Rhett would love her, and it never happened. It’s only been a couple of months for me, and already I want to give up. It’s funny how loving someone can hurt so much. I think it’s the hope you have that things might change someday. You hope they’ll love you and every day it doesn’t happen it becomes a suffocating pain that eats away at your heart.
“Just get some rest and remember to drink a lot of fluids.”
“I will.” She coughs, and it sounds awful.
“I wish you were closer so I could take care of you.” I hate the distance between us. Both my best friends are on the other side of the country. I only moved here for Marcus.
“Me too. How are things on your side?”
“Nothing’s changed.” I don’t really want to offload my lousy week on Evie while she’s sick.
“Did you show your portfolio to your boss?” she asks.
“Yeah, I did. She told me that the company didn’t hire me to design for them.”
“Did she even look at your designs?”
“No.” I let out a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry, hon. Just get some work experience and then find a place who will allow you to design.”
“You’re right. It just sucks. I’ve dreamt of designing my own pieces since I was a little girl.”
“You’ll get your chance.”
Evie blows her nose, and knowing that she needs to sleep, I quickly move on to my other problem.
“To make everything worse, I fell asleep at Marcus’ place last night.”
“Shit,” she groans.
I’m not sure if she’s groaning because she doesn’t feel well, or because she knows what that means.
“How did he react to that?”
I pull a face, and for the first time this week, I feel like crying.