My Boyfriend's Girlfriend

eighteen

Being at the coffee shop on Sundays was becoming a quick trend, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Partly, I wasn't sure how my light allowance felt about being drained, but mostly I was beginning to think I'd have all of my life-changing revelations at Brew Brothers.

The shop was oddly busy this afternoon, and I was sitting in the parking lot waiting for Tessa to text me that she'd gotten here. It was just past four in the afternoon, and I had told my mom I was going to a cheer practice for the start of the competition season. I was getting awfully good at lying, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that, either.

"Is she there yet?" Stacy's voice came through the car speakers. I'd been sitting in the car, letting it idle while I talked on the phone with Stacy.

"No." I said simply, barely taking my thumb nail out of my mouth. I'd bitten it down to the bed, and it was going to bleed if I didn't move onto the next nail.

Stacy could hear the anxiety in my voice, and I heard her sigh. "Abs, you're going to be fine. Tessa is probably the nicest person you've met." She said, but quickly added, "Other than myself."

I laughed lightly. "I know, I'm not worried about that." I said, and paused to think about my next words. I was worried, but not about seeing Tessa. I was worried about being seen with Tessa. Would everyone immediately know why we were out together? Would someone who knew Danny and I both see us out? I let out the breath I was holding and shook my head. "I'm not worried, I'm just...it's not a big deal, I need to stop letting everyone live my life for me." I blurted it out, and as soon as I'd said the words, I realized they were true.

I'd lived my life for my mother, feigning interest in being abstinent. I'd lived my life for my father, as a Christian. I'd lived for Danny, as his girlfriend who did as she was told. I'd never once stopped and thought about what I had wanted for myself. I loved my parents, and I had loved Danny, but who was I? I loved cheer, I loved music and my friends, my dog, and I believed in God. Outside of those things, who was Abby Reynolds? Would I just become Abby, who was Danny's ex? Abby, who was now gay? I'd have to come to terms with that, as well. I wasn't sure I wanted another identifying label to define myself.

I took a staggered breath in and let it fill my lungs, visualizing the fresh air move through my body from the top of my scalp down to my toes. I'd never believed in any of the exercises my old therapist had given me, but I was desperate for anything to calm me down in this moment. I slowly counted to four in my head as I breathed in, which felt more like an agonizing twelve, and steadied my exhale with a count of four as well. It didn't calm me.

"Again, I'm only going to be a text away." Stacy reminded me.

"You're too good to me." I chuckled shortly.

"You would do the same for me, I know that." She replied. "That's what best friends are for."

Another thing I was for someone else, a best friend.

My phone buzzed on the dashboard, but I didn't need to look at it to know it was Tessa. I saw her car pull into the parking lot, and she drove around for only a few seconds before she pulled into a parking spot. She must've not noticed my car parked to the side of the building, because there was a spot open next to me.

"Tessa is here." I said, and Stacy let out a quiet squeak. "I'll text you later."

"Don't be a weirdo, okay? I love you." She said, and I could hear the corners of her lips turning up into a teasing grin.

"I'm a weirdo by nature." I said, and pressed the phone button on my steering wheel. For a beater first car, I'd really lucked out with the Bluetooth.

I waited for a moment before pulling my phone off the dashboard and opening Tessa's text. You can do this, I muttered to myself under my breath. I'd been so excited yesterday and earlier today, and all of the anxiety that hadn't been there was suddenly hitting me with the force of a semi truck going 80 miles an hour. I felt my skin prick as I grabbed my phone, and read the two texts on my screen. She was a double texter, like me.