Bet on It (30)

Aja started to shake her head, then stopped abruptly. “Well, kind of. I went to get my nails done, and the nail tech was really nice. She, uh, she invited me over to her place to hang with her and her friends tonight.”

A slow smile spread across Dr. Sharp’s plum-painted lips. “You’ve been trying for a while to make some new friends down there. Are you happy about the invitation?”

“Absolutely.” Aja swallowed. “I almost cried after she asked me. But I’m not sure I’m going.…”

“Why not?”

Aja didn’t answer right away, taking time to gather her thoughts. She’d been in therapy for years and had seen no fewer than six different counselors. There was still a part of her that felt a little intimidated by them. Logically she knew they couldn’t read her mind, but sometimes it felt like they could. It was counter-productive to keep things from your therapist, but everyone did at some point. Dr. Sharp had a talent for dragging things out of Aja that she didn’t want to bring up with anyone. Sometimes it just took time for her to choke the words out.

“I don’t want to get there, meet her friends, and have them all realize that they don’t like me.”

“What makes you think they wouldn’t like you, Aja?”

Aja rubbed a hand across her forehead and shook her head, silently indicating that she didn’t want to speak.

“Do you have any evidence that you’re unlikeable? Has anyone ever told you that before?”

They hadn’t, but that didn’t keep her from thinking it. She tried her level best to maintain as much confidence in herself as she could. But her anxiety made it next to impossible sometimes. Trying to fight off the insistent whispers in her head telling her that she wasn’t worth knowing was exhausting. And at times like this, when she was already distracted by a ton of other things, she didn’t have the energy to raise her fists.

“No,” she whispered, the mic on her laptop surely struggling to pick it up. “But you know me. I’ve never needed evidence to harp on something.”

“I know you’re a smart woman.” Dr. Sharp adjusted her glasses. “I also know that you’re resilient and clever and hungry for connection. Personally, I have a hard time seeing why anyone wouldn’t want to know you.”

“How many young people out there are up for dealing with a friend who can barely sit in a half-crowded movie theater without panicking?”

Dr. Sharp pursed her lips. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t feel that accommodating the needs of the people they care about can be boiled down to just ‘dealing’ with it.”

Therein lay the biggest issue. Aja didn’t believe anyone aside from her family could ever care about her enough to view her as anything other than a burden. She wanted to believe it. So badly it hurt inside. She just … didn’t know how.

“How do I make myself believe that?” she asked, voice full of desperation. “What do I have to do to convince myself that people can care about me?”

Dr. Sharp shook her head, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. “I don’t think there’s a single thing I can tell you that would make you believe, Aja. You have to do that work yourself. And you can start by going to that gathering tonight. Pay attention to how they treat you, how they respond to you. And if you don’t find any evidence that they think you’re unlikable, try letting them in. They might surprise you.”



* * *



Miri’s house was a cute, compact white structure in a neighborhood full of homes that were similarly cute and compact. All the houses were older and clearly weathered but with well-manicured lawns that made the level of care obvious. It was warm outside, and the sun hadn’t started to set yet, and from inside her car she could hear sprinkler systems going off and children playing—a neighborhood alive in the summer. The entire scene was so sweet and wholesome that it looked like something out of a movie from the 1960s.

She’d taken Dr. Sharp’s advice and called Miri right after their session to confirm that she was coming. Her anxiety hadn’t dissipated much, but she was bolstered by a certain resolve to see this through. She’d do as her therapist advised and try to view the interactions she had with these new people through clear, discerning eyes. Aja just hoped she didn’t end up seeing something that made her regret the entire thing.

When she arrived, she sat in her car for a few minutes, gathering herself. Once she finally worked up the nerve to get out, she checked to make sure her car door was locked three times, to buy herself a little more time.

Miri’s smile was bright white against her dark skin and just as infectious as it always was when she answered the door.

“Hey, girl! Come on in, you’re lettin’ all the cold air out.” She motioned for Aja to step inside the house, closing the door behind her.

Aja was immediately greeted by the smiles of the two other people in the room.

“Aja, these are my two best friends and also my two worst enemies. Jade”—she pointed to the light-skinned Black woman sitting on the floor between the couch and the glass coffee table—“and Olivia”—she gestured to the red-haired white woman on the left side of the couch, closest to the door.

“Y’all, this is Aja. She came into Fresh Coat on Monday and was sweet as sugar. I figured we could use a little more of that, since y’all are so damn sour all the time.”