EXCEPTional

Ch. 4 (Bridget)

*Bridget* 

My phone was ringing. Again. I groaned and didn’t even bother to look at the screen before tossing it aside and falling back onto my bed.

      Sheila happened by, and she stopped in front of my door. She bent a knee, putting a hand on her hip, as she advised, “You know, I think this would go a lot better if you just broke up with him.”

      I stared up at my ceiling, lips pressed together in a tight line. I complained, “But I always do the breaking up, Sheila. I’m always the dumper, never the dumpee.”

      She rolled her eyes and assured me, “Trust me, sweetheart, you do not want to be on the other side. I’d rather break up with someone than the other way around.”

      “No matter which way it goes, you’ll always feel empty,” I pointed out, glancing at her.

      “Yeah, but you don’t feel it as much,” she countered, turning to head down the hall.

      I quickly followed after her. “But, see, I’ve only ever broken up. First Jeff, than that weirdo Tyrone—“

      She interrupted me. “Okay, you needed to break up with him. He kept his toenail clippings in a jar.” She shivered.

      “I didn’t know that before I went out with him,” I insisted. I shook my head. “Now I’m considering breaking up with Lucas.” I collapsed onto the couch.

      Sheila simply sighed, beginning to empty the dishwasher—the kitchen was her territory, so I let her have it.

      I asked to the air, “What if I don’t meet someone else?”

      She huffed. “Oh, don’t do this to me. You will meet other people.”

      As I sat up, I sent her a look. “I will?”

      “Well, yeah. I mean, I know I’ll meet someone.”

      I rolled my eyes. “Of course you will. Look at you! Sheila, you’re exotic. You’re noticeable. I’m not.”

      She shot me a look this time. “Oh, please.”

      My eyebrow perked in challenge. “Look at me.”

      She did, and then she sighed in defeat. “Okay,” she conceded, “so you blend into the background a bit. So what? That doesn’t mean you won’t find someone new.”

      My lips pursed, and when she noticed, she put her hands on the counter and asked, “What do you want me to say, Bee? You want me to say, yes, you’re gonna be sad and lonely your entire life?”

      “No,” I answered dejectedly.

      “And I’m guessing you don’t want to hear the ‘there’s someone out there for you’ speech, either.” She quirked a brow at me.

      I shook my head, admitting quietly, “No.”

      She stared me down. “So what do you want? All that’s left for me is silence, and you don’t want that either.” She was growing impatient with me.

      “I don’t know,” I grumbled bitterly.

      She clicked her tongue and returned to putting the dishes away. She told me, “Well, pick a side. Because I refuse to get caught in the middle of this.”

      It was silent a moment as I thought. Then I asked, “What do you think about getting a cat?”

      She glared at me, not amused. “If you get a cat, I’m moving out.”