Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)

Chapterish 61

GLASS HEART COLLECTIBLES

I went straight home after the drive-in. Meg dropped me off and I trailed pieces of popcorn all the way up to my parents' doorstep. They're already asleep when I get inside, so I tiptoe through the house and up to my room.

The hot steam from the shower helps to clear my mind, albeit not of all things. My bones prickle with an anticipation I'm used to by now -the kind you get when you're excited but nervous but ecstatic and also want to throw up.

I know seeing Brooks is imminent. If not in the next few days, then certainly next weekend at the wedding. Skipping it is always a possibility. I'm sure Brody and Lauren would understand.

I pull on my oversized Edge hoodie and cuddle up in my bed, hair freshly shampooed and still sopping wet. I open my phone to look at my messages. Just two from Zoë and Raz. My eyes spot Josh still pinned to my favorite threads. Sadness strikes in an unusual way. I suppose it's time to remove him from my texts -delete him from my life -the usual. But I can't yet.

I wonder what Josh is doing right now.

I search his profiles on all the social sites. He's not posted anything, made no ridiculous declarations, or pretending everything is fine. I can't stop myself from looking up Cece's page again.

Now my popular page is inundated with snaps and articles about her. Newest Headline: What Really Happened, an inside scoop of Cece Majors and entrepreneur Jay Brooks.

Inside scoop? GTFO.

Why do I do this to myself?!

Inspired by the sentimentality of today, I put on a playlist of very 2000s music. Draping myself across the bed, I start going through old pictures of me and Josh. I want to delete them, but if I have one superpower it's holding onto old photos. If I scroll back far enough, I'll see countless photos from the cabin, Mobile Star, and even NYE. I'll see all the selfies that old Em & B took, still there, just shrouded by a year's worth of Em & J ones.

Is this all I'll ever be? Is this all I'll ever have? Someone looking through old pictures, reliving memories because I'm just alone in real time?

Thirty and alone. And not the kind of isolation I enjoy. It makes it more difficult to be happy for everyone else's successes. Like you're in line, waiting for this really great toy or gift or event, and everyone else keeps cutting. You don't mind so much at first, because it almost tests your patience, tests how much you really want it. It builds this anticipation that only makes it more exciting.

But then everyone cuts, everyone else gets to the finish line first and you start wondering what you did wrong. Why don't you deserve the toy or the gift? Why don't you get to see the main event? And I tell myself maybe it's just not my time, not meant to be yet. But again, that only lasts for so long.

I stare at my favorite photo of me and Josh. Tears swell behind my lids when I close them. I think of earlier today, of insisting to the girls that I'm not some fragile glass figurine. Then here I am, being shattered by a photo.

I'm breakable with a capital B. Nothing more than a glass heart collectible.

And that's not a collection anyone wants!

Determined to clear my mind beyond the steam of the shower, I pull on my moccasin booties and creep back downstairs. The coffee maker hums with life as I wait idly for my fresh cup to brew. The aroma reaches my nose and I relax. Love myself a late-night cup of coffee.

It's chilly out but refreshing too. I sit down on the porch swing and bring the mug up to my lips. The warm ceramic feels nice against my palms.

I log into Go Zen online to do a few work-related things. This way my night won't feel like such a total waste. The newest subscription video has our most hits yet. Zoë asks at least once a week when we're going to open GZ3.

I open her last text now. She's telling me about a trip her and Brian are taking this fall. She needs a week off. Raz is also asking about vacation days. Wow, I'm really an absentee business owner. It's only 8 PM in Seattle, so I text them both back. I'm about to close my phone and discard it for the night when I see Brody's name pop up on my screen.

Beach Bonfire tomorrow at mom's house

Lauren says no NOs

Fuck me. Here it is.

What's with this group of friends and being obsessed with bonfires? With pre-wedding parties? Why can't the wedding be enough, damnit!

I tuck my phone into the pocket on my hoodie. I won't answer tonight. Won't answer maybe at all. I'll go. The more I think about it, the more it's probably better to see Brooks before the wedding. I think of the last time Brooks came to see me before a wedding. When he was banging down my door at 3 AM, drunk and sobbing.

A lifetime away now.

I breathe in the salted air for a few moments before packing myself up to go back inside. I lie in bed, hair still wet, and sit alone with my thoughts.

Thoughts of drive-ins, bonfire parties, and tall, tattooed, moody men dance across my mind. No proper, preppy, handsome finance bros though.