She fished out a few crumpled receipts out of her purse while she waited in line. They were faded, some of the vendor logos barely visible. There was an abandoned highlighter on the counter to her left. She snatched it and pressed the crinkled paper against the cool wood. With her index and thumb, she removed the cap, popping it off, allowing it to hit the floor with a hollow rattle.
She rubbed the yellow ink against the last four digits of her debit card, erasing any evidence one could use to steal her information. She normally did this once a year—took her purple shoebox full of receipts and eradicated them of her identity before throwing them in the paper recycling. These ones would have been tossed in the box—given more time to stay—but she needed something to do while waiting to talk to the guy in Western Union. Normally, at this time on a Saturday, she would be curled up with her chatty calico reading her latest borrow from the library. She wouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t even be here.
Her boyfriend just had to fuck up once again. Her codependency was the main factor for still being with him at all. Although they had been together for a couple years, why he had these sudden hair brain ideas that always went wrong was a mystery to her. This time was the result of a visit to New York City for a music festival alone.
The bright pink cellphone started chiming. She struggled to find it in her bag large enough to fit a litter of kittens, mother included. It was about to go to voicemail when she finally found it. The screen displayed UNKNOWN.
“Hello?”
“Hey, angel,” the voice from the other end cooed.
“Hi.”
“Did you send the money yet?”
“I’m working on it…”
“I’m desperate here, Em.”
“I know, I know.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Emily whipped her head back to see her best friend standing behind her, still clad in her pajama bottoms, arms crossed. She lowered the phone for a second before pressing it back against her ear.
“You’re seriously bailing him out, again?”
“I’ll call you back in a couple of minutes.”
“Sure thing babe.”
“How did you even know I was here?” Emily asked, hanging up her phone.
Cassie held up her own phone. “I got your text.”
“Oh right.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Well things cost more than he thought when he got there…”
“That’s utter bull shit.”
“Cassie…”
“No,” she said, yanking Emily from the line and into the corner of the room. “I can’t stand here and watch you destroy your life over a guy who continuously walks over you when you could totally find someone way better.”
“But Frank loves me—”
“All he does is use you.”
“No one else could ever love me,” Emily said in a low voice, her eyes focused on the floor.
“How sure about that are you?”
“Cassie, you have to say that.”
Cassie threw her tote bag on the ground. It landed with a thud, but that was unable to fill the intangible silence that had fallen between them. Emily ran her fingers through her hair. Cassie might have been right about him taking advantage, but no one could ever love her. Her life had been plagued with perpetual rejection, and Frank had been the end of that. So what if he had his issues? She obviously didn’t deserve better.
“That’s all you have to say?” Cassie asked, the volume of her voice beginning to rise. “Are you really that blind?”
“What?”
“You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed anything between us!”
“Wait. What?”
“We’ve been friends forever,” Cassie said. Emily could see the tears forming in her eyes. “Haven’t you ever had a time when we were together where you had the urge to just kiss me?”
“Cassie, where is all of this coming from? I’m with Frank, remember?”
” Yeah I know. I have one question for you though. Are you happy or are you just comfortable?”
Cassie’s question gave her pause. Things hadn’t always been easy with Frank, but she was happy right? Being with him felt safe—comfortable. She didn’t dare admit it to herself yet, but there were a couple of times where she thought of the what if when it came to her best friend. However, that was something that everyone tended to do, like if one wondered what it would be like with a different hair color.
Emily was cut off by the pressure of Cassie’s lips against hers. Everything around her suddenly stopped. It was only the two of them—no one around in Western Union or the whole world, in fact. Emily’s cellphone was ringing again, but she ignored it. Her heart was racing, but she didn’t care. It was like being on an amusement park ride where the floor drops out and all she could feel is her stomach dancing the Nutcracker. When it had ended, and time started to move again, it was as if Emily could suddenly breathe—like she had been holding her breath for two long years and had forgotten how much her lungs liked the taste of air.
Cassie stood there, rocking on her heels. She opened her mouth and then shut it again. Emily brushed her long, red hair behind her ear. Her phone rang again. This time, she answered it.
“Hi Frank…I think we need to talk.”
Sarah Henrich 