We Go Down (Bremmy 2)

Chapterish 21

| SEATTLE |

WALKABOUT

"Be right there!" I shout behind my back.

I prance down the hall to the storage room at the back of Go Zen, flipping my messy hair up with a lime green scrunchie. It's my sole remnant from '80s Night and also happens to match my sports bra.

The stack of extra yoga mats is just where I left it. I throw a few over my shoulder and head back to the studio.

"Packed class," Zoë says, wiping her brow.

"Must be the new media page," I say.

"You're welcome," she laughs.

In my absence, Zoë took it upon herself to revamp our social media presence. It's paid off too; classes have been even more swamped than usual. A truth that only makes me feel worse about leaving all the time.

I have been home for two weeks though. Came back the day after our Poconos getaway. It's the last weekend of January and Brooks is showing up any time today. He wouldn't tell me when his flight got in. So here I am, a yoga-sitting duck.

The plan was or is to switch off and on visiting each other. He comes up now. I go to NC in two more weeks, which also happens to be V-day. Memories of last year grow fresher in my mind with each passing day.

The night he told me he loved me.

But it will work –this back and forth arrangement. It will work. I just doubt its longevity.

I refill the grapefruit wall plug-in in the outlet behind the front desk and toss the empty. Gotta keep things fresh scented with all these sweaty bodies.

"Ready when you are," Zoë says.

"Coming." I nod.

We set up at the front of the class, which is actually the side of the studio floor. Warm sunlight pours through the giant windows, creating a greenhouse effect I'm most thankful for.

It's still every bit of January outside.

We spend the next hour co-instructing the advanced yoga class. Firefly pose. Scorpion pose. Repeat. The class ends with a quick meditation in the lotus position before Zoë dismisses everyone.

"Thank you! Great zen, everyone. Remember to keep liking us on social media for exclusive offers!"

"See you all Tuesday!" I call out, spray down up the spare mats with a homemade lavender disinfectant.

"I'm beat!" Zoë falls on her back, stretching out her legs.

"Same," I nearly pant.

I pour us both a giant glass of cucumber water from the front cooler and sit on the floor next to her.

"Plans tonight?" Zoë asks, flipping her long braids into a high pony.

"Maybe. If Brooks ever gets here," I smirk.

"Hot boy?" She raises her eyebrow at me.

"Hot boy." I nod.

"Must really love you to keep coming out here," she says, sipping from her cup.

"Yea, I think he does." I can feel the blush.

"Does he ever work?" Zoë jokes.

"He's got that apparel line, remember? So works when he wants," I say, stifling a yawn.

I use my microfiber towel to wipe the sweat from my cleavage.

"Oh yea. Big timer," she says.

"Yea, yea. How's Bryan?" I ask her, hopeful to shift the attention from my love life to hers.

"Oh he's good, girl. We might be moving in together, actually." Zoë sighs with relief, like she's been holding this info in.

"What?! That's amazing! When?"  I ask.

"February," she says, guilty.

"That's like in two days!" I laugh.

"I know," Zoë laughs. "We've been talking about it since New Years and my lease is up anyway."

"I can't believe you failed to mention this," I tell her.

"Well I hardly see you," she smirks.

"Hey!" I toss my sweaty towel at her. "Not true."

"Hey, I don't blame you." She laughs. "Especially not after seeing hot-boy. Speaking of... Will I finally get to officially meet this mysterious Mr. Grey?"

"Oh my god. Stop." I laugh. The idea of Brooks being my Christian Gray cracks me up. "Don't say that to him. He doesn't need any ideas."

"Hey do you wanna hit that vegan bar? I need a coffee on my way home." Zoë stands from the mat, waiting for me.

"Def." I hop up.

I finish stacking the clean mats in the back as Zoë sprays down the mirror wall. The dim track lighting is the only sign of life when I lock up Go Zen. Together, Zoë and I walk the two blocks to our favorite vegan food and coffee bar.

Another hour later it's almost 7 PM and I'm starting to wonder where Brooks is. I'm starting to check my phone every ten minutes, sad when there's no new message from him.

We finally split and I walk the familiar route back to my apartment building, with my coffee in-hand and my yoga tote over my shoulder.

Zoë agreed to take the whole day of classes tomorrow and we will split Sunday. Bless her.

I'm just texting her to say thanks again when my phone dings. I brace myself and look at the messages.

CAN'T COME. SRY.

DON'T BE MAD.

What the actual FUCK. I'm about to unleash old Emmy, but a third message pops up on the top of my screen.

LOVE U

Breathe, Em. Breathe.

There could be a whole plethora of reasons he's canceling. Last minute. No, last second.

Edge. His mom. His dad. Brody.

But why wouldn't he tell me earlier? Why wouldn't he tell me why now?

Why am I surprised?

I don't even realize I am back at my apartment, having spent the entire walk pissed off at my phone *at him*. My mind races with all my possible comebacks until I decide on the greatest comeback of all –the NO ANSWER.

I drop my phone into my tote no longer wanting it in my sight. OK, not wanting the texts in my sight.

Aggravated, I jam my key into my lock, assaulting my own door. Even more frustrated when I have to jiggle the piece of shit open.

I throw my tote on the countertop and grabbing a glass, I open the fridge. I'm just pouring my water when I look up and see him.

Across the flat.

On my bed.

Naked.