“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m saying. And I want you to know that it’s fine. Because I know you’re going through stuff. I’ve gone through shit before too, and I came out the other side of it, and now I’m happier than ever.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been going through this for years now. And you still hang around.”
She grabbed my hand. “That’s right. I do. Because I understand. And there’s no time limit on how much time you might need. There’s no limit to that. So, I meet you where you’re at.”
“Okay, what does that have to do with anything?”
“Mack . . . he’s clearly going through something too. And he says he doesn’t want you around. And that might be true. But also, you were friends, you say so yourself, and you never say that about anyone. So, maybe you need to be there for him as well. A little push and a little shove to get someone out of their shell never hurt anybody.”
I was surprised to hear her say that, but now it makes sense. She’s always been there for me, it’s true. And she’s also given me space. I worry about breathing. About suffocating in my sleep. But maybe Kate would be the one to find me, shriveled up on the ground like a dried-out sardine, before it was too late.
Maybe I’d never considered it before.
Either way, it gives me the strength to pick up the phone after Kate leaves my apartment.
Jules: I’m coming over.
Suddenly, bubbles appear.
Mack: Jules. You’ve got to give this up.
Jules: I think there are other people on the forum who know about you. Or your kind.
Mack: FishKiller1234? That nutjob?
Jules: No, others. There might be more of you out there. Aren’t you curious?
Mack: That has nothing to do with you.
Jules: I know, but . . . I miss you.
Silence.
I pull on my jeans as the silence persists, then a sweater over my head. A navy blue. According to my mother, the colors are too heavy for my delicate coloring, but the insides have never matched the outsides.
He’s gone silent on me again. But then I put myself in his shoes. I know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed by interactions with other people. Like all the times when Kate expresses something to me that is beyond my emotional skill set. Now I’m the Kate in the equation.
That makes me feel brave.
Brave enough to leave my house for the third time.
***
Okay, I’ve made it to the sidewalk again. I take a big breath, only choking briefly before regaining myself, coughing into my hand and approaching the coffee shop.
“The usual. Wait, no. Two coffees, actually,” I correct myself.
George’s eyebrows go up. “Two coffees?” he asks.
“That’s right.” I even offer a smile. Or something close to it. It still feels so weird to be looked at.
But this time George just nods and hands the coffee over. “Enjoy your day, Jules.”
I nod back, take the coffees, and begin my epic journey seven blocks north to Mack’s house.
I think it’s easier this time around, and also, excitement propels me, spurs me forward and into action. I didn’t realize excitement and anticipation could override so much of my anxiety, but it turns out that’s a thing. Maybe my therapist could’ve mentioned it once or twice.
Even when I get to his building, I’m emboldened. Confidently, I march inside, swinging open the heavy entryway door and marching to the elevator. Luckily, no one ever seems to be in the building. Maybe it’s filled with old people. Maybe it’s filled with weirdos like me. Either way, I’m alone in the elevator all the way to the fifth floor, and I thank my lucky stars.
I only waver in my bravery when I make it to Mack’s door.
But I force myself ahead and knock.
I almost drop my coffees when the door opens in less than three seconds.
And my heart flutters, or maybe it’s my stomach, or maybe it’s my adrenal system going haywire. Either way, something crazy pumps through me at the sight of him again.
“Come in,” he says.
His deep, smooth voice fills me with anticipation.
Chapter 12
The first thing I notice when I step inside is the changes he’s made to his tank.
He’s filled it with all kinds of things. Plants mostly, water plants, swaying on thin green stems with furry little fronds puffing out in different directions. The tips of their stems breach the surface with flowers and leaves. And now the tank is a beautiful blue filled with beautiful green. Also, there’s a light inside. It glows a soft purple, like a mermaid shell.
“I like what you’ve done with the place . . .” I joke. But also, I do like it. It’s beautiful by anyone’s standards. “The Aquariumaniacs would go wild for this shit.”
