that,” Bree adds as she grabs her car keys. Then she levels me with a cannon blast. “You got her fired from Archer. Well, you and Miranda.”
67
GABBY
Ever notice that simple, everyday things feel like drudgery when you’re depressed?
My feet feel like millstones as I drag myself around the grocery store. I don’t need much since I’m taking off for winter break soon, but cooking is cheaper than buying takeout.
When I turn the corner, I accidentally bump into someone’s cart. “Sorry about that,” I mumble.
The woman turns, and I find myself face to face with Ramona. Ugh. Just what I need today. Another reminder of how terrible I am at relationships of any kind.
I look down as I attempt to push my cart around hers.
“Hey. Wait.”
I pause, shocked she wants to chat.
“Look, I’m just going to lay it out, okay? I’m sorry I was a dick when I moved out. My boyfriend says I’m a lot to handle.” She snorts. “And now that I live with a man child, I wanted to tell you that you were a really good roommate and friend. Even if I didn’t make it very easy.”
I’m a little choked up by her confession, but right now, I’m pretty sure almost anything could make me cry. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.” I blink, relieved the waterworks don’t break free.
“You okay? Do you, like, need to talk about it?” Her fearful expression makes me laugh.
“I think I’ll be okay. But thanks for asking.”
She rolls her eyes. “If you wanted to get coffee sometime, I’d be down for that.”
I stifle a smile. “How about after the holidays?”
“Yes, after that.” She shivers. “You know how much I hate the holidays.”
I’m not looking forward to them anymore either, although I’m grateful that I won’t have to spend them alone in Charming again.
I resume my shopping, but not five minutes later, someone else calls my name.
I turn, surprised to see my brother. Why is it when you’re miserable and feel like death you run into everyone?
“What’s up, Ben?” I grab a box of Pop-Tarts and toss them into my cart. I don’t wait for him as I trudge up the aisle. He probably doesn’t want to talk anyway. He never does.
He jogs to catch up to me. “Uh, I was wondering if you were coming to the game this weekend?”
I haven’t been to any games this fall. The thought depresses me. I should’ve enjoyed one during the five minutes I was dating Rider. But all of those tickets sold out at the beginning of the season, and I hated him then.
Why did I open myself up to getting hurt by him all over again? Pure idiocy. And I’m supposed to be a smart girl!
“I’m going out of town. So no.” I pause in front of the frozen section and eyeball the ice cream. A breakup definitely calls for ice cream. I could basically eat my weight in Ben and Jerry’s right now.
“Really? So you’ll be back on Monday?”
I frown. Since when does he care? My inner voice has gone full-on bitch mode since things went south with Rider. I should have some compassion toward my brother. I know what he struggles with, but I don’t have the energy to deal. “I’m done with classes and turning in my final projects tomorrow, and I don’t have any finals, so there’s no need to return until January.”
“But finals don’t start until next week.”
I swear talking to Ben is like having a discussion with a brick wall sometimes. “I don’t have any finals.”
“Are you staying with Aunt Carmen?”
“I haven’t stayed with her in years.” Again, this is stuff I’ve told him. “I’m going to Kat and Tori’s for winter break. They invited me.”
“Our cousins.”
Someone give this man an award for actually remembering something I told him. “They have farms about an hour away. I’m taking off tomorrow.”
“Before our game?” he asks, incredulous.
“Yeah,” I say slowly and spell it out for him since he’s not connecting the dots. “As I’m not dating a football player, and since I don’t have tickets, I’m not going to the game.”
Besides, I don’t think I can handle seeing hordes of women fawn over Rider. It’ll hurt too much. Never mind what will likely go down at the party across the street after they win.
Oh, God. What if they lose? It’s been such a crazy week for the team. Rider must be going out of his mind.
No, Gabriela. Stop sticking your nose where it isn’t wanted.