Birthday Girl(126)

He takes the money and shoots me a look. “Nineties music is the best. It’s when people told the truth.”

I curl the corner of my mouth, not arguing further. He clearly drank the same Kool-Aid as she did.

“Thanks,” he says, swiping up the keys.

I hand him back his I.D. and watch him leave. Outside, he doles out the room keys to all the ladies, and after a moment, they all make their way to their rooms. I’m half-tempted to go to the window and see if he goes in with one of them. Or five of them. Very curious.

“Was that a customer?” Danni says behind me, and I glance back, seeing her walk into the office. Her apartment, where she resides with her grandmother, sits behind the office, so it’s easy to run and check on her when she needs.

“Yeah,” I tell her. “He got five rooms for the night, and he’s traveling with at least half a dozen women, so have fun on the night shift.”

She snorts and walks up, picking up the contract. “Tyler Durden?” she reads his name, squinting through her glasses.

I nod, pulling a stray brown hair off her flannel shirt. She even dresses 90s.

“Didn’t you get I.D.?” She makes a face at me. “It’s a fake name.”

“His I.D. said Tyler Durden,” I shoot back. “Why do you think it’s a fake name?”

“Tyler Durden is a lead character in Fight Club,” she spits out like I’m an idiot. “The best movie of the 90s, and one of the best books ever. It’s disturbing that you don’t know that, Jordan.”

I laugh, shaking my head. She might only be a year older than me, but we’re worlds apart in interests.

Fight Club.

My smile falls, and I drop my eyes, turning back to the computer. I’ve seen the movie, but the name didn’t register. And I’ve seen it recently, too, with Pike…

I swallow, my chest growing tight. Dammit. I’ve done really well the last few weeks, turning my attention elsewhere, so I don’t think about him. It was hard at first, but not seeing him every day made it easier. It was right to leave like I did.

But every once in a while, he’ll pop up in my head when I make taco dip for Danni during a long Saturday shift or hear a song or when I see my raincoat and the splatters of mud still on it from him and me playing around. I haven’t even lit any candles, because I don’t know what to wish for when I have to blow them out.

To wish to feel like I did with him gives him power over me again, but deep down, that’s all I still really want.

To feel that good again.

It’ll just have to be with someone else now.

“So…” Danni pulls up another stool. “Don’t your fall classes start up soon?”

I click off the Free Cell game, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah.”

She waits for me to say more, but I’m not really sure what to say. My financial aid came in, so classes are paid for, and I have enough to get an apartment back home, but it almost feels like taking a step backward. He called when I first left, but after a few days it stopped, and there’s been nothing since.

I hate to admit it, but I wonder far too often what he’s doing, if he’s seeing anyone, if he misses me…

If I go home, I may run into him. What will that be like?

I’m proud of myself that I’ve stayed away, but I still feel ashamed that he’s there in my head, lingering all the time. I’m not over him, and until I can blow out a candle and have something better to wish for, I don’t think my head is in the right place to go back yet. I’m scared.

“You know you can stay forever,” Danni goes on. “Seriously. My college isn’t bad at all. You can transfer.”

“Thanks,” I tell her. “But I need to go back. I know I do. I’ve just been putting off thinking about it.”

“You don’t want to see him.”

I meet her eyes, her black-rimmed glasses falling down her nose again.

“I don’t want to be who I was when I left,” I clarify.

“You’re not.” She leans an elbow on the counter, resting her chin in her hand. “You’re allowed to hurt. But you didn’t allow it to keep you down,” she points out. “That’s what makes us strong. You haven’t called him, and we had some fun. He didn’t ruin your summer, because you didn’t let him.”

Yeah. We got drunk at the pond, rocked out to bad music as we raced around town in her ’92 Pontiac Sunbird convertible, and had some pool parties here. I laughed a little.

“And it’s not like he tracked me down, either, so…” I tell her. “I guess we both knew it was borrowed time. It was just a fling. He was right.”

A fling.

A cool story I’ll have fun looking back on when I no longer love him, and I can appreciate it for the sex it was.

I feel her eyes on me, because she knows I’m lying to myself, but like a friend, she lets me dive into my delusion. We need lies to survive sometimes, because the truth hurts too much.

Maybe a transfer would be a good idea, after all.

I stand up. “The printer needs paper,” I tell her.

And without looking at her, I walk into the back office, blinking away the burn in my eyes before she sees. I’m not going to cry. I can’t hide here forever, after all. Northridge is my home, my family is there, and I have to go back at some point. I can do it.