Wish We Never Started

1

Before I can even get a word in, Sofia has both hands pressed against my shoulders. Her cheeks are beet red and her messy bun is falling down the side of her head.

"Stupid, Gabriel!" she practically screams, pushing me back onto the couch, and not in a good way.

"Sofia–" I want to talk to try to leverage the situation, but it does not work.

"You stupid boy! I hope nothing in life works out for you!" Sofia points towards me accusingly, her bottom lip jutted in anger.

I grip the couch and watch her shake before she turns and grabs her purse from the kitchen island, swinging it over her shoulder.

Her left breast is about to pop out as she adjusts her bun and pulls down the hem of her dress, casting me one last devilish glare.

"Stupid!" She screams again, pulling the door open with enough force to shake the walls. It slams shut behind her and I am left alone.

"Jesus christ," I mutter, rubbing my face with my hand.

I sink down onto the couch a little more and look around. This is my life. Living in a studio apartment with rent that I can barely pay in the outskirts of Chicago.

Newly single, as of three minutes ago.

My phone suddenly rings, a welcome diversion from whatever just happened. It's Diego.

He is my only friend here – the rest are back home in San Francisco wondering what the hell happened to me.

I answer him and instead of hello, I just say three words: "She found out."

Diego is quiet on the line for a few seconds.

"I told you to delete my nudes and sexy videos, bro," is what he finally says, his accent oozing through just slightly.

I roll my eyes. Usually, I appreciate his attempts to lighten the mood and make things better, but this time I'm over it. 

"Ah, shut up. You know I was going to break things off this weekend. She just took my phone while I was in the bathroom... and saw the messages."

Over the last week, I started orientation at a diner called Red Car. There were three of us hired at the same time – me, Sadie, and Arnold.

Sadie was this girl in her early 20's. I overheard her say she didn't want to go to college, she just wanted to start working, and the diner was the first place that responded to her application.

She had a dimple in her chin and light brown wavy hair that cascaded a few inches past her shoulders. She smelled like the candles my grandmother used to make back in California, the warm and spicy scent that overtook her home every time I visited.

The first day of orientation, I couldn't stop looking at her. By the end of it, she was looking at me, too.

That's when I noticed her eyes were an unusually bright green. They were captivating, and I had to pull my own away so I wouldn't stare too long and appear weird.

By the end of the third day, we all exchanged numbers and started texting in a group chat about orientation. I sent Sadie a separate message and she responded right away.

Arnold was a recently divorced 40 year old who didn't say much, but you could see his emotions through his body language. His shoulders were slumped and he fidgeted often. Whether he was rubbing his neck or tapping his fingers, something was always unsettled about him.