A SAVE ALWAYS GAVE ME A RESTLESS high with the pure adrenaline coursing through me, and I felt on top of the world. This save had been one of my best, and I rode that high for the next . . . oh, fifteen minutes or so before I stood inside my apartment, staring at the sterile white walls and twin bed.
“What kind of adult has a twin bed?” I said aloud as I realized I was once again alone. And my post-save high took a dive when there was no one to talk about it with, no one to come home to.
I sat on the bed and realized that Aiden and Evie and Yash were in my past, like a dream. A really, really good dream that I didn’t want to wake from.
Maybe I could go back? Maybe Evie could still be my friend when her brother hated me. But I could never face him. I reminded myself once again that it would kill me to see the affection fall from his eyes the way it had from Nick’s, the same disappointment emerge over time, the same relief on his face when it inevitably ended. No, I’d take my last memory of him the way it was, kind and perfect and maybe a little bit crazy about me. I had two weeks left to my suspension, and while Thompson had made it clear I could go back to work, I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t fall back into old routines. I could handle my life, my solitary life, but Evie was right, I couldn’t hide from myself or the city I served. If I was going to give them my life, my dedication at the sacrifice of everything else, they’d have to take all of me. I wouldn’t hide any longer.
I’d have to prepare myself, plan.
That is, if I still had a job after my fiasco with the press. I looked down at myself. Jeez, Evie, this shirt. The aldermen would certainly have something to say about this. But for the first time, I didn’t care. They could fire me if they wanted. I’d still be me. I’d still show up when I was needed. I’d still help, even without the paycheck and the jet pack.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see Evie’s name lit up on the screen, a picture of her in her best runway pose. I declined the call.
It was better this way. Better to make a clean break.
I removed my uniform and took a scalding shower before hiding under the covers, imagining a kiss from Aiden as he climbed in next to me. I could almost hear his words as I drifted off to sleep.
“You did all right today, Bowden.”
“YOU UPPED THE ANTE WITH that T-shirt.” Doctor Evans smiled across from me. I knew that look. I’d never seen it on her before, but there was a hint of admiration on her face now.
“It was an accident.”
“Oh? Well, how are you feeling about it now?”
“I’m not sure.” I shrugged. “I guess I don’t really care. I’m indifferent.” I was feeling indifferent about a lot of things today. “I’m not fired yet.”
Her lips pressed together. “One might say that’s progress. And did you have a chance to tell Aiden before all this happened?”
“Let’s just say he knows now.”
Her eyebrows went up. “And how did that conversation go?”
“It didn’t.”
She closed her eyes briefly, though her face gave nothing away. “Birdie. How many times have we discussed this? There is really nothing else I can help you with if you aren’t willing to put yourself out there.”
“I won’t saddle them with all my baggage. Maybe Evie could handle it, but Aiden . . . he didn’t sign on for this version of me.”
“What version is that?”
“I lied to him. I’m not—”
“Don’t. Just don’t finish that sentence.” Doctor Evans set her notepad aside and stood up. She paced to the window and back, then sat again. “People in your past—the people who left—didn’t choose you. They chose the easy way out. They chose to give up.” She picked up her notepad and pen, settling into her lap, sitting back in a relaxed fashion, before adding, “But then again, maybe you did too.”
She let that one settle for a moment, then said, “You have this delusion that there’s no perfect people out there just for you, that you are meant to be alone. But let me tell you a little secret. There are no perfect people, period. There are no soulmates. No one’s meant to be in a relationship or meant to be alone. This life is about choices. You choose to be a friend. You choose loyalty. You choose to do right by people. You choose to be brave. And love is also a choice. If it gets hard, you choose to keep trying or choose to call it quits.”
She leaned forward and spoke slowly, a sliver of frustration showing through. “Consider what choices you are making now, Birdie. What are you choosing? Who are you choosing? Think about it.”
I didn’t immediately respond. and Doctor Evans returned to her poised position in her chair, her voice back to normal. “I’ve already sent my assessment to Thompson. I see no reason for you not to work. The rest is up to you.” She looked up at the clock. “Our time is up.”
FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS, the question stayed in my head. What was I choosing? It wasn’t that simple, was it?
Uncertain, I wallowed in my apartment, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of Grove. I thought of Evie and Yash moving into a new house. I thought about Aiden, about how his feelings for me felt so simple, so easy, and how I made it all so difficult. I thought about his reluctant smile, his deep laughter, his calloused hands. I imagined him in his kitchen, in his shop, in our bed.
In an effort to break myself of the downward spiral, I decided I’d go see Jace in New York and pretend I had everything figured out, that I didn’t miss Grove more than I’d ever thought capable.
I met Jace’s guy. Well, not quite his yet. But Jace was diligently working on it. Just as he’d described, Claudio was handsome, a little shy, and very nerdy. And by nerdy, I mean very into pop culture, comic books, and role-playing games.
Claudio wasn’t exactly what I would have pictured for Jace, but he was also exactly right. They were clearly head over heels. It was fun to watch the most confident man in the world struggle with falling in love for the first time.
When he wasn’t wooing Claudio, Jace took me to his usual haunts where people knew him but didn’t care too much about his celebrity status. We raced each other around the island of Manhattan. He said he let me win because I looked so damn miserable; he was a liar. On several occasions, when he asked me to talk about the life I was avoiding, I told him to leave it alone. And he did, doing his best to cheer me up.
The night before it was time to go home, I met Jace and Claudio for dinner. I’d arrived a few minutes early and was waiting at the bar in my summer dress, my hair down, light makeup, and wearing a pair of glasses. My best disguise yet. It seemed the most recent save had made the national news and, while I refused to pay attention to the media frenzy, I had been recognized a few times since being there. I wanted to be anonymous tonight.
As I started in on my martini, Jace entered. I knew it because of the muted commotion that followed him everywhere in this city.
He leaned in to kiss my cheek and said, “Hey, Blanche, you look great. What’s the occasion?”
I shrugged. “Just wanted a change.”
“Change is good.”
“Where’s Claudio?”
He picked the olives out of my martini and slid them from the toothpick into his mouth. “He’s parking the car.”
“Really?”
“No. Who has a car in this city? He’s finishing a phone call with his mom outside.”
“Right.”
Just then, Claudio walked in. “Birdie,” he said with a tone of sadness, “I can’t believe this is your last night here. What am I going to do without you running interference with this guy?”
“Hey.” Jace pouted before Claudio went in for a brief kiss. My heart thumped as I thought of Aiden.
I tried to push the thoughts away, but it seemed the more days that passed, the more of Evie’s phone calls I declined, the more I missed them. So many times a day, I thought of things I’d wanted to share with Evie only to sag at the realization that I’d pushed her away with the lies I’d told her brother. I’d never wanted to put a wedge between them.
“Check out what I bought online,” Claudio said in a singsong voice. “Just arrived today.” He unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled it off, giving it to Jace, who tucked it into his lap.
I spit my martini across him and his T-shirt. Because it wasn’t his tee. It was mine—or Evie’s. What was important is that the shirt said in block letters, “Yeah, My Vagina Can Crush Your Penis,” followed by a cute little superhero emoji with a braid and mask.
“Where did you get that?” I said, sounding almost accusatory.
“Online, like I said. I barely got my order in before they went on backorder. They’re selling like hotcakes.”
“No!”
“Yeah, they are. Where have you been the last two weeks? Check it out, you’re trending.” He pulled up his phone to the video of me on the news with like a gazillion hits, Evie’s shirt on full display as I said with a visible confidence, “Just the truth.”
“There are shirts that say that too.” He leaned in, whispering, “My elderly neighbor got one that says Yes, My Vagina Can Crush Your Penis, But I’m Too Old to Bother.”
“Oh my God,” I screeched, and heads turned.
“Oh, Birdie, don’t be such a prude.” Claudio put his phone away. “I saw one the other day that said, Yeah, My Asshole Can Crush—”
“Stop. Please. This is bad.” I glanced at Jace, who was enjoying the conversation, having never said a word to me about this. “I’m supposed to be a wholesome municipal employee. Clean and universal, approachable.”
“Oh, Bea, there’s no such thing,” Jace finally interjected. “We’re all a little dirty, and if we’re not, we’re repressed and angry.”
“Even Jace’s nieces have them. That’s who I saw them on first—they’re all over Insta.”
My face was stricken. “The asshole one?” I whispered.
Jace laughed out loud, then showed me the picture of his niece, and sure enough, her shirt said Yes, My Vagina Could Crush Your Penis, But I’m Not Old Enough to Date Yet.
“How is this a thing?”
“Girl, your tees are all over the country.”
“But it was just ten days ago.”
“I know. I thought maybe it would burn out, but it keeps going. Good for you, marketing yourself.”
“But I’m not, Jace. I didn’t market myself. It’s not me doing the shirts.”
“Well, someone is making money off this endeavor.”
This was bad. I’d be sacked for sure. Thompson didn’t like a commotion, at least not historically. And I wasn’t sure this was the “face of the city” they’d asked for. I pulled out my phone, finding a long string of texts from Evie.
I typed out Are you selling T-shirts?
The reply came in seconds. Don’t be mad.
Then a few minutes later: Birdie. Don’t be mad.
I’m not mad.
I wasn’t mad. I was in shock. I looked up at Jace, who was watching me intently.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just think I need to go home and get everything sorted.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. I . . . this might be bad.”
Jace stood and picked me up in a bear hug. “Call him,” he whispered in my ear. “Let him be the one to end it. It’s not right for you to make this decision for him. It will only bring regret.”
I pulled away and looked up. It was the first time in ten days he’d specifically mentioned Aiden.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Bye, Beatrice.”
“Goodbye, Jace. Good luck with this one,” I said, leaning in to give Claudio a kiss on the cheek.
“I don’t need luck,” Jace called out after me as I walked to the door. “I’ve got a super penis that can’t be crushed!”
I stopped just as those around us did, taking in his words. I didn’t turn back, but I had a smile on my face as his chuckle followed me out the door.