Sequel: Here With Me ›
Sunday in New York
Concealed
I left lunch and stepped my brand new grey boots into a puddle. It had been one of those days, but somehow I wasn’t affected by the small things that were slowly piling up. I cursed myself for not telling Avery about Chester again. I knew that I should, she’s my best friend, but I felt guilty almost when she had to put up with Eric all the time.
The New York street smelled like summer, like pretzels, pretzels, and tourism. I put in my headphones and began the walk back to the salon that I work at. After stopping for coffee and apologizing to a short stocky man for him bumping into me, I opened the door to the salon. I had three appointments for the afternoon. I was already crashing, and just wanted to get off to go see Chester.
My first appointment came bouncing in; she had bright blonde hair and a smile that encompassed half of her petite face. I greeted her, and she came over to my station. Of course it was a little messy, and so I piled up the magazines and put the combs into the sterilizing jar.
The appointment went as planned, until we started talking about relationships. It was all normal, she gushed over a boy that she’d just met, and I resumed the role of therapist hairstylist again. Nothing big, really, nothing earth shattering at least.
“He’s great.” She smiled while I took the foils out of her hair. “And he’s so sweet.”
“How’d you meet him?” I usually ask a question like that and then while they go on and on, I think about other things or space off. She grinned and told me about how, really, it was a funny story. She bumped into him getting coffee and spilled it down the front of his suit and then they got to talking and-
And let’s be honest, that’s when I stopped listening. I’m not mean, or rude, it’s just that I hear it all day, every day. After a while coincidences seem a little less coincidental.
“So how long have you been together?” She giggled, and I was glad that I was almost done with her hair.
“Well this makes it sound bad, we’ve only been together for about a month, but he’s just different, you know? Like when we met, John Mayer was playing in the coffee shop, and so he took me to a John Mayer concert last week. How thoughtful is that?!” I smiled and gushed with her. “I mean, he even got backstage passes through his office, and so we got to meet him! Here I think I have a picture with all of us.” She unlocked her iPhone and started flipping through the pictures furtively.
I had finished her hair just a little later than I was planning on, and when I noticed my next appointment sitting in the waiting area, I realized that I’d been spacing off too much.
“Here!” She passed me her phone and I could swear that that wasn’t her boyfriend, no it couldn’t be. Given the lighting wasn’t great, he looked identical to Avery’s Eric.
“That must have been so fun, what did you say your boyfriend’s name was again?” I tried to smile without letting the suspicion show through. You’d be amazed how many women come into one salon swooning over the same men.
“His name is Eric.” She smiled and thanked me before turning to go to the front desk to pay. My next appointment was getting impatient so I didn’t have time to text Avery, and I wasn’t sure if that was the way to do it, or if I even should say anything. Of course I should, but how?
The afternoon went so slowly as I fought with myself about what to say to Avery, I had definitely decided texting her about it was out of the question. What would I even say in person? And this wasn’t the way I wanted to show up to my third date with Chester. When I had finished all of my work for the day instead of bursting out of the door and into the free but ruthless arms of New York City, I sat in my chair and turned it towards the window. While I sat there, rain started to run in veins down the windows.
The cool, summer rain that quenched the sun-bleached sidewalks, the kind that would probably be gone in a few minutes, but instead I put my hoodie on and walked outside, staring up at the streaks of rain falling from the heavens.
I would tell her, I had decided, I just wasn’t sure when.
The New York street smelled like summer, like pretzels, pretzels, and tourism. I put in my headphones and began the walk back to the salon that I work at. After stopping for coffee and apologizing to a short stocky man for him bumping into me, I opened the door to the salon. I had three appointments for the afternoon. I was already crashing, and just wanted to get off to go see Chester.
My first appointment came bouncing in; she had bright blonde hair and a smile that encompassed half of her petite face. I greeted her, and she came over to my station. Of course it was a little messy, and so I piled up the magazines and put the combs into the sterilizing jar.
The appointment went as planned, until we started talking about relationships. It was all normal, she gushed over a boy that she’d just met, and I resumed the role of therapist hairstylist again. Nothing big, really, nothing earth shattering at least.
“He’s great.” She smiled while I took the foils out of her hair. “And he’s so sweet.”
“How’d you meet him?” I usually ask a question like that and then while they go on and on, I think about other things or space off. She grinned and told me about how, really, it was a funny story. She bumped into him getting coffee and spilled it down the front of his suit and then they got to talking and-
And let’s be honest, that’s when I stopped listening. I’m not mean, or rude, it’s just that I hear it all day, every day. After a while coincidences seem a little less coincidental.
“So how long have you been together?” She giggled, and I was glad that I was almost done with her hair.
“Well this makes it sound bad, we’ve only been together for about a month, but he’s just different, you know? Like when we met, John Mayer was playing in the coffee shop, and so he took me to a John Mayer concert last week. How thoughtful is that?!” I smiled and gushed with her. “I mean, he even got backstage passes through his office, and so we got to meet him! Here I think I have a picture with all of us.” She unlocked her iPhone and started flipping through the pictures furtively.
I had finished her hair just a little later than I was planning on, and when I noticed my next appointment sitting in the waiting area, I realized that I’d been spacing off too much.
“Here!” She passed me her phone and I could swear that that wasn’t her boyfriend, no it couldn’t be. Given the lighting wasn’t great, he looked identical to Avery’s Eric.
“That must have been so fun, what did you say your boyfriend’s name was again?” I tried to smile without letting the suspicion show through. You’d be amazed how many women come into one salon swooning over the same men.
“His name is Eric.” She smiled and thanked me before turning to go to the front desk to pay. My next appointment was getting impatient so I didn’t have time to text Avery, and I wasn’t sure if that was the way to do it, or if I even should say anything. Of course I should, but how?
The afternoon went so slowly as I fought with myself about what to say to Avery, I had definitely decided texting her about it was out of the question. What would I even say in person? And this wasn’t the way I wanted to show up to my third date with Chester. When I had finished all of my work for the day instead of bursting out of the door and into the free but ruthless arms of New York City, I sat in my chair and turned it towards the window. While I sat there, rain started to run in veins down the windows.
The cool, summer rain that quenched the sun-bleached sidewalks, the kind that would probably be gone in a few minutes, but instead I put my hoodie on and walked outside, staring up at the streaks of rain falling from the heavens.
I would tell her, I had decided, I just wasn’t sure when.