The next day after class, Riley drags me to a nail salon a few blocks away from school. Apparently, her and Finn taking me out to eat for dinner and spoiling me with gifts wasn't enough. Riley bought me hot pink workout clothes and a box of pastel colored ribbons, which was actually really amazing since I thought she would buy me something ridiculous and I would never use. Finn, on the other hand, bought me a new pair of pointe shoes and a fluffy white tutu he spied in a store window. I thanked them both and hugged them tight until they complained they couldn't breathe. I couldn't appreciate them anymore than I do now. Sadly enough, Finn caught a stomach bug and couldn't make it to mani/pedi's. But, really, I think he's faking because he doesn't want to get his nails done. Such a guy.
After getting my eyebrows plucked, a procedure that hurt like hell, I take a seat in one of the plush couches in the front of the store and wait for Riley to get her full facial experience. Reading magazines about gossip and doubtful rumors for gets boring after five minutes, but it's not like I have an array of activities, unless I want to get a wax or acupuncture. If those are my only options, then reading about Justin Bieber getting married to his childhood friend and whether or not his famous ex Selena Gomez is hurt or not sounds suddenly very interesting. Why do people even care about celebrity's lives, anyway? Who cares if a young star pierces her baby's ears or not? I thought parents do that when their baby is super young, so why are people feuding if it's immoral or not? I will never understand people's obsession with prying into other people's lives.
Putting the magazine to the side altogether, tired of seeing photoshopped models, I pull out my phone and draft a get better soon text to Finn and follow up by saying how much I wish he was here to keep me company. He replies with a frown emoji and says he'll make it up to me, but he doesn't have to. He's already done so much for me, more than he can ever realize.
When my phone vibrates in my hand, I think he's calling me, but then the preset picture for my dad's number pops up on the screen. In the picture I'm thirteen years old, but only my legs in pink tights and are visible as dad kneels down to tie my pointe shoes. I was on my way to my usual dance class when he noticed the silk ribbon had come loose. I remember complaining about him taking forever to tie it correctly, so it wasn't too tight or too loose, and him telling me to calm down, that he wouldn't forgive himself if I fell over and hurt myself if he didn't fix the ribbon. I was just too excited to get to dance class, in the moment I could go barefoot and dance in the street, I didn't care as long as I got to dance my heart out. And when I told him that, he smiled and kissed my head, murmuring, "That's my passionate, butterfly. Now let's go before you actually do dance in the road and risk getting hit by a car."
Swallowing the tears threatening to form, I hit decline and quickly tell Finn I'll talk to him later before turning off my phone and shoving it in the bottom of my purse. This isn't the first time he's tried calling. He and aunt Lyra have been calling and texting me all morning, wishing me happy birthday. I almost answered them a few times but stopped myself at the last minute. After all this time, I haven't forgiven them for what they did. The affair is one thing but lying to me and a very good man for a very long time is another thing.
Lyra acted as the mother I wish I had growing up. She bought me clothes and taught me about womanly topics and was always there to hug me if I needed one. And my dad—he and I have been through everything: tight money problems, me being downright enraged about mom, him working more than he sleeps. One time, he even fell asleep at the wheel after working every day of the week. We were on our way back home after he picked me up from dance class, and he crashed into a light pole. I broke my foot and he had a concussion. It was horrible, and still blames himself to this day. He promised to stop working so much and sat by my side when I couldn't even stand upright. Not being able to dance for two whole months was the worst feeling in the entire world, but we got through it together.
But the entire time growing up, the two people who raised me weren't even who I thought they were. They're liars. That's all I can think when I read their text messages and listen to their voicemails. I'm not sure if I can ever forgive them.
I still haven't even forgiven my mother, but I doubt she even cares if I do or not. She's indifferent towards me. She only wished me happy birthday once in a text this morning, and then that was it. No groveling for my forgiveness or saying she's sorry for walking out on my dad and I when I was an infant and desperately needed a good mother to help raise me. Just a simple: 'Happy Birthday, hon' with a heart emoji, then that was it. I wasn't even that shocked really. She only ever calls or texts me on holidays or random days she feels like being a 'decent mother' and telling me how much she misses me.
If you really miss me, you would have come back, but you didn't.
Not wanting to look mental for crying in a nail salon, I push the hurtful feelings down and pick up another magazine. I read maybe four or five different magazines before Riley is finally done with her facial. Thank goodness. Unfortunately, my mind is clogged with Kardashian drama, tips on how to keep sex fresh and innovative, which celebrity may have cheated on who, and many more I don't ever want to think about again. I shove the images of unrealistic slim bodies and fights caught on camera to the side of my brain and join Riley at the back of the store to get our nails and feet done. But before I go over, I pick out a simple white nail polish.
"How was the facial?" I ask her when I sit in the reclining back chair.
"Phenomenal," she moans, slipping her feet into the hot bubbling water. "You should have gotten one too. Not that you need it, though, your skin is literally perfect. What's your skin care routine, it's so clear."
"Oh, um... I don't have a routine." I toe off my gray toms and shyly place my feet in the water. I feel relaxed already.
Riley gasps dramatically. "Seriously? That is not fair. I do everything none to man for clear skin, and all I get is acne and depression."
I cringe. "Sorry...?"
She shrugs. "Don't be, you were born flawless."
I laugh out loud, not meaning to. "I am not flawless." If only she knew how messed up I am in the head. It's kind of sad how clear my skin is, but how messy my mind is.
"How so?" She looks over at me as the woman at her foot dries off her foot. The woman below me does the same.
I'm not sure if I want to talk about my family situation right now when I'm supposed to be relaxing, but I have to get some of it off my chest before I implode. "I caught my dad and my mother's sister making out one night and—and apparently they've been having an affair for two decades."
"No way," she gasps, and the woman doing our feet look at each other. I blush, disliking being that girl who has drama in her life. But it's not like I can help it. "And you didn't know this entire time?" When I solemnly shake my head, she huffs, "That is fucked up. According to you, they raised you and you were all extremely close. Yet, this whole time they've been keeping that bombshell a secret from you your whole life?"
"Would you forgive them?" I ask curiously.
"Let me think," she says, then licks her lips and stares at the ceiling, deep in thought. "No," she finally answers and looks over at me. "Not if I grew up with the people I thought would never lie to me, not about something as huge as that. I'm sure they had plenty of times to tell you. You wouldn't even be this hurt if they had just told you a long time ago. But two decades, your whole life being lied to... it's unforgiveable. You can try to get over it and pretend everything's fine since they are your family and you can't escape family, not really anyway, but I wouldn't look at them the same."
Her honesty strikes a chord in my chest, but I appreciate it. If they had told me even a year ago, I would have been angry, yes, but we could have figured it out and done the right thing since they weren't going to without telling me the truth. But at least they willingly came forward and confessed. I accidentally found out by walking in on them. If I arrived an hour later or hadn't gone into the kitchen, I wouldn't know to this minute. All would be fine, and I would still trust them, but I would be ignorant to the horrifying truth. I don't know what's worse; knowing I was lied to by the people I love or wanting to turn back the clock to when I didn't know, stopping the pain rippling through me.
"Besides them lying to you, how are things?" Riley asks as the woman below us start scrubbing our feet.
"Things are great... except for the fact that Blue is messing with my feelings."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I didn't want to tell you because of how horrible it ended... but Blue was at the lodge I went to with his family over the vacation break," I tell her, and she gasps.
"You went with his family? He was there? And you're just now telling me this!" She sounds angry, but a lot more shock. The emotions sprawling across her ever-changing facial expression tells me she's trying to wrap her head around it. I don't blame her, I would be confused too.
"Yeah... I'm sorry. But, yeah—he showed up after a small incident where I sprained my ankle. I'm fine now, but he acted as if I twisted my neck and drove all the way there, somehow compressing the normal eighteen-hour drive to ten. Anyways, he showed up and I was upset with him. I was trying to move on from him after..." I swallow and look at the woman sitting beside me, filing my nails. "He was begging me to forgive him and even tried to make me jealous—"
"Did it work?" Riley teases me, and I roll my eyes.
"Let me tell the story." Smiling, I continue: "And then, all of a sudden, I was... conflicted somehow. I promised myself I was never going to him a chance after what happened. But then my feelings for him began to surface and I started thinking maybe, sometime down the line, I could forgive him. I don't know... it was strange. It got even more complicated after I got drunk on New Year's Eve and had sex with him. Before you ask, no, I am not giving any detail. Just know I don't remember all of it, but I woke up feeling more confused than ever."
"Okay, I am going to get details one way or another." She raises one hot pink finger, halting the worker from painting her nails. "And... what are you feeling now that you're back? Are you thinking of getting back together with him now?"
"No... he—he left me there," I say quietly and look at my lap.
"What do you mean he left you there?" she asks softly.
"I mean, he made a huge fuss with his father, which isn't anything new. But as I was getting a first-aid kit to help with his hand he'd injured, by the time I came back for him, he wasn't there. He bought me flowers and left them and his phone scattering the ground. I must have waited two, maybe three hours waiting for him to come back, but he never did." Hot tears cloud my eyes and I swipe them away quickly before giving my hand back to the kind woman who gives me a sympathetic smile.
"Oh my God... I am so sorry about that." Riley shifts in her chair and looks like she wants to get up and give me a hug. I'd love to receive it, but I don't want to appear rude to these lovely women doing my nails.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I tell Riley with a forced smile. "And I found him leaving a blessing in disguise." When she gives me a confused frown, I explain softly: "He finally let me go when I'd been holding onto a man who didn't exist anymore, one who hurt me so many times. But now... now I can finally move on. Or at least try to." I've never heard of anyone fully moving on from their ex. Is that even possible? Can a person truly forget a person who made them feel like anything was possible?
"Good for you, girl. The party tonight will make you forget about him, for sure." Riley flashes out her newly made-over hair. She took out her braids and changed the style, creating two elegant braids that stop at the middle of her back.
Wait, what? "Party? What party?"
"Your birthday party, of course," she says in a duh tone. "Some guy named Declan called you when you were sleeping, and we talked and planned a party for you. We're having it at his apartment. He's gonna invite all of his NYU friends and everyone I know here will be going. Funny enough, we both know most of the same person. Small world huh? Hey, why didn't you tell me you befriended a total hottie? I looked him up on Insta and stalked his page. Maybe you two can go out."
"Um..." There's a lot to take in. "Thank you for the party, but I don't like celebrating my birthday."
"What do you think we're doing right now?" she giggles.
"You have a point..." I shyly say.
"Plus, you'll be able to have fun and forget about your family and Blue. Don't you want that?"
"I guess..." But do I really want to get drunk again? The last time I drank too much, I had sex with someone. That and good stuff don't really happen when I drink, which is why I ban myself from doing so after every time. But Riley does have a point. Having a night to just let go and forget everyone's who wronged me does sound enticing...
"Oh, fine, I'm in," I finally say, and she squeals.
"We'll go shopping after this," Riley tells me, clapping her hands, greatly annoying the nail artist.