She’d learned early on that Asian women were placed in one of two stereotypes: the exotic dragon lady or the bookish curve setter. Annie didn’t relate to either, but the older she became, the more determined people were to label her.
Her mother had once explained that when people struggle to understand someone different from themselves, they find comfort in labels. Annie had a few labels to overcome. She was a woman of color, raised by white parents in a predominantly white community. And she was adopted.
All things that made her different—not relatable.
She found, once labeled, people didn’t bother trying to know her, and instead relied on the role they deemed the most fitting when making their assessments. To avoid awkward situations, she’d allowed herself to be cast, and even played the role to perfection because, like everything else in her life, Annie did it wholeheartedly. Which was how she’d become a grown woman who didn’t know what she’d find staring back at her in the mirror most mornings.
Damn, she was tired of wondering.
Annie slumped in her chair. “I’m almost thirty and I’ve never had a one-night stand. That’s weird, isn’t it?”
“It’s not weird,” Lynn said, but Beckett covered her mouth as if Annie had just confessed that she’d never licked the bottom of an ice-cream carton.
Emmitt was a lot like ice cream. Moose Tracks ice cream with its swirled caramel and fudge around chunks of cookie dough. One bite would lead to scarfing down an entire tub. Only to wake up the next morning, bloated and nauseous, vowing to never give in again. Until the next lonely night came along, and Moose Tracks was the only fix.
“I’m a binger,” she said. “Work, junk food, Netflix. My control vanishes. Did you know I watched all three seasons of This Is Us in a single week? I got out of bed only to get tissues and pay the pizza delivery guy.”
“So maybe you’re just not a one-night-stand kind of girl,” Beckett said, this time without an ounce of judgment in her tone. “Doesn’t mean you can’t have a fun summer fling.”
Her heart raced at the very idea. “I’ve never had a casual anything. Not even friends.”
Annie had never subscribed to the concept of a permanent ex. She kept in touch with every friend and boyfriend she’d ever had. In fact, she was the only reason the In-Bees were still so close. She took seriously the responsibility of fostering and nurturing relationships.
“And I wonder why I keep getting my heart tromped on.” She laughed. “I’ve gone into every relationship I’ve ever had as if that person were the missing piece of me. And hoping I was theirs.”
“Talk about pressure,” Beckett said. “On you and the guy.”
“I don’t know how to do it any other way.”
“Hey, as a fellow good girl, I get it,” Lynn said. “Thinking long term, always doing the right thing, putting everyone else first. It can make you nuts. Trust me, it gets to all of us at one point or another. For me it was spring break 2010. I have a tattoo of Zac Efron on my butt to prove it.”
Beckett owl eyed Lynn. “Like High School Musical Efron? Or The Greatest Showman Efron?”
“High School Musical.”
Beckett laughed so hard, she snorted.
“Wait, I’m still stuck on you having a tattoo!” Annie gasped. “You are a bigger good girl than I could even aspire to.”
“That’s because I learned my lesson. Making stupid decisions when suffering from bad-girl envy is a decision you will come to regret.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Annie said. “I’ve never done anything I regretted. I’ve never even attempted to do something a little wild for fear I’d regret it. Or disappoint someone. Or—”
“Been there, done that, got the tattoo. You aren’t missing out.” Lynn was trying really hard to prove a point. A point that clearly worked for Lynn, since she had a career she loved, a circle of friends who loved her back, and went home every night to a super great—not to mention incredibly hot—guy who adored her.
It was dangerous to get into a comparison game with someone like Lynn. Not that Annie didn’t deserve the same kind of happiness, but Lynn wore happiness like a silk robe. She made it look sexy. She wore so many hats and wore them with ease.
Annie didn’t even know what effortless and sexy looked like on her. And she wouldn’t go so far as saying she was depressed, but finding happiness always seemed harder for her than