Beth Hyland - Fall Into Forever

“Although if you gave her a shoulder to cry on, she might be really grateful, if you know what I mean,” James says, arching an eyebrow.

“You’re such an asshole. You know that?”

I leave the family room and trudge slowly up the stairs. Spotting my guitar sitting in the corner near the window, I grab it, sit on my bed, and start playing a few random chords.

James is right about one thing. I can’t lead her on. Not now. Not anymore. This thing between us needs to stop before it progresses any further. She’s been through too much heartache. I’d only add to it by hurting her more.

Ivy, the girl who values truth and compassion, doesn’t deserve that.

* * *

Ivy

The butterflies in my stomach have been drinking Red Bull again, but I can’t totally blame it on the fact that I’m on my way to Coffee Addicts for my first day of work. The other reason is because the shortest route from my dorm to the coffee shop is right past the Student Counseling Services building, and I still haven’t scheduled an appointment.

The awning over the entryway is a cheery orange, as if it’s saying, Come on in. We’re very nice.

I’ve thought about it. I really have. But I haven’t been able to act on it yet. Unfortunately, Mom wasn’t able to get another refill on my prescription. If I don’t get more soon, I’ll be screwed the next time a migraine strikes.

I quicken my pace. Soon the counseling center is behind me and Coffee Addicts is straight ahead. I jog the next few steps, and when I open the door, the wonderful smell of freshly roasted coffee beans wafts over me.

I can’t ask Mom and Dad for anything extra, so I decided I needed to get a job. Luckily for me, I happened to mention this fact to Dani when I saw her out running the other day. She works here and told me to apply. I did. They interviewed me on the spot. And here I am.

“I’m Wanda,” says a girl with two high pigtails in her hair. She’s wearing a black corset-like top, a black lace skirt, and black combat boots, and both arms are covered in colorful tattoos. “You’re Ivy, right?” she asks brightly.

“That’s me.”

“I’m the shift manager.” She hands me a blue Coffee Addicts apron. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

And by everyone, she means the other two people working.

Lavon is an attractive African-American guy wearing black-framed glasses and a plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off, so it’s essentially a vest that showcases his muscular arms. “Howdy.” He throws a smile over his shoulder, lifts a pitcher of milk to the steam wand and twists the knob. The machine hisses loudly in response.

“Welcome aboard,” Toni says, pouring what looks to be juice concentrate into a blender filled with ice. Fair-skinned and curvy, she’s got beautiful dark red hair, secured down the middle of her back with three mismatched hairbands.

“Come on. I’ll show you where everything is.” Wanda swings her arm wide and does this little dance on her tiptoes. I’m not surprised when she tells me later that she’s a theater major. She’s patient, too, considering I get a stupid sneezing attack when she demonstrates how the coffee grinder works. I think I may have inhaled some coffee grounds.

Toward the end of my shift, I’m taking drink orders, manning the register, and can make a few of the simpler smoothies. I’ll be shadowing Lavon next. Good thing I’ve been coming here all year, because I’m familiar with their drinks and pastries.

I’m wiping tables and straightening chairs when Cassidy comes through the door. Her eyes are red and swollen.

“Oh my God.” I rush over and guide her to a quiet table in the back near the restrooms. “What happened, C?”

“I was right,” she says, sniffing. “Will has been cheating on me with his ex-girlfriend. How could I be so stupid?”

I hand her a napkin. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

“I was over at his place and he went to get something in the kitchen. His computer was open, so I thought I’d check Facebook real quick. Before I could log out of his account and get into mine, a chat window opened. Ashley Perfect Body O’Reilly is telling him she’s coming home from college this weekend and wants him to come home, too. I miss you soooooo much, baby,” Cassidy says mockingly in a high-pitched voice. “Blech.”

“Maybe it’s one-sided. Maybe she’s the one pursuing him.” I know only too well how cyberstalking happens.

“That’s what I was hoping, too, so I closed out of it and didn’t say anything. Later, he tells me that he’s decided to go home this weekend. Something about his grandma.” A sob escapes, and there are more tears. I hand her a few more napkins. “Ives, we have tickets to go see a play here on campus this Friday. His idea, not mine. When I reminded him, he refused to look at me. Said I could have the tickets and take a friend.”

“Have you told him you saw Ashley’s message?”

“No, I just wanted to get out of there and come home. And then I remembered you weren’t there. I’m sorry,” she says, looking around the coffee shop, as if seeing it for the first time. “You’re not going to get into trouble for talking to me, are you?”

Lavon hands a drink to the only customer waiting, then turns to shoot the shit with Toni. Wanda is talking to a friend near the door.

“No, I’m fine,” I tell her. “God, what an asshole. Guys can be such jerks sometimes.” Isn’t that the understatement of the year? “He’s missing out on a great thing. His loss. Not yours.”

“And if that’s not bad enough, I got a C-minus on my Cultural Studies exam.”

“It’s been an all-around shitty day, hasn’t it?”

She nods and tears at the napkin. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Can I get you a glass of water? Do you want a coffee? I can practice my barista skills.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know. Surprise me.”

I return a few minutes later with a glass of water and a white-chocolate mocha in a ceramic cup and saucer. Looking at my sad first attempt at coffee art, I give her a sheepish smile. “It’s supposed to be a flower, but it looks like a mushroom.”

Cassidy looks at the cup, then raises a brow. “Mushroom? More like a penis, Ives.”

Good thing I’m not drinking anything, otherwise I’d have spewed. The old Cassidy is never far away.

She takes a sip and says it’s perfect. “Hey, do you care if I go home this weekend? I think I need to do some major shopping therapy with my mom.”

“I don’t mind,” I tell her, wiping off a nearby table. “I’m just studying anyway.”

“So…you haven’t heard from Jon yet?”

I shake my head.

It’s been almost a week since we visited Stella. We exchanged a few texts the next day, but that’s it. He wasn’t in class on Monday, and on Wednesday, he came late and left early. I don’t even know if he got his theme assignment finished.

Cassidy sits up straighter in her chair and a little of that fire comes back into her eyes. “Then come home with me. We can go shopping. Get our nails done. My mom and step-dad will take us out to dinner. We’ll go see a movie downtown. It’ll be fun.”

I exhale slowly. “Sounds fun, but I’ve got to work. And I’m too new to start switching shifts with anyone.”

“Damn.”

“Why don’t you stay here? We’ll rent something on Netflix, make popcorn. I’ll even eat pizza with non-dairy cheese without complaining.”

“Thanks, but I can’t subject you to that.” She doesn’t look quite as shell-shocked as she did when she came in, although her nose is still red and her eyelashes are damp. “I just want to get away from here and go home. Clear my head.”

Home. That’s the last place my head feels clear. “It’ll be good for you to get away.”

Cassidy frowns as if she’s trying to make sense of something. “It’s not even been a week since you last heard from him, right? Maybe he’ll still call or text.”

“And maybe not. That’s okay. It’s not like we were going out or anything.” I sound more pragmatic than I feel, because inside, I’m not feeling that great.

The connection I felt with him must not have been mutual, even though I could’ve sworn it was. Why would he have taken me out for breakfast and then invited me to Stella’s? Maybe I misread things. I shouldn’t have let myself think that there was something good starting between us.

My first impression of him was that he was trouble, so maybe it’s better this way. Disappointment now is much easier than disappointment later, when there’s more at stake.

I guess I should’ve listened to my own inner voice right from the start.

Ivy

I understand now why so many people in the Pacific Northwest get Seasonal Affective Disorder. With gray skies and the endless drizzle after the holidays, I think I’ve forgotten what the sun looks like. It would be one thing if it would rain really hard and then stop, but it doesn’t. It’s like someone left a faucet on and there’s a continual drip drip drip.

Every. Single. Minute.

Every. Single. Day.

Maybe it would help if I could get a good night’s sleep, but insomnia has been keeping me up lately.

I’m sitting in my history class and the professor has just finished lecturing. I fold the desk on its hinge and gladly get up from the hard plastic seat. If they were molded to fit the contour of an actual person’s butt, it would help, but they aren’t, so they’re painful. I twist my spine and it cracks. These desks should come with a warning label.