Page 88 of June: Jess' Story

I break out the big guns and call Brit. But she doesn’t fucking answer either, probably because it’s bed time. I pace the hallways, and when no one calls me back, I just start walking. Head on a swivel, I walk the streets of DC in hopes I might find her. All while the gut feeling is telling me I won’t.

I walk down U Street on a fucking hunch, but nothing. When my phone vibrates, I immediately slide to answer without even checking to see who it is.

“Hello?” I sound like I’m out to kill. Probably am.

“Oh my, are we in a bad mood, too?” Britain.

“Just annoyed.”

“Yeah, you and Elodie both. I just spent two hours helping her construct a model replica of a pyramid just for her to tell me Cambri’s mom did it better.”

“Little shit. Hey, don’t mean to cut you off, but I’m supposed to meet Damian, but he’s not answering his cell. Can you Find-My-Phone him?” This might be a slightly unethical ask, but fuck it. Also, there’s no guarantee that Jess is with him, but I get the feeling she is.

“Ugh, fine.” I wait a couple moments and Brit reads off an address to me. She doesn’t care what it’s to or where it’s at. It’s almost like she doesn’t care at all.

“Thanks. Gotta go.”

“Okay! By-” I hang up on her before she even gets to fully say goodbye. I quickly hail a cab and head for Adams Morgan where Damian has exactly zero fucking business being at tonight.

I check each floor and then I check again when I see what looks like the back of my friend’s reddish head entering a bathroom. Slight relief at that. I double check the floor again, for Jess, but don’t find her, so I go to the bathroom and wait.

And I fucking wait.

It’s fucking loud in the club, but I get closer to the door, and I hear….no.

Don’t want to believe it, but I put my ear back to the door again.And fuck.It’s people having sex. It’s not loud and overt, but it’s there.

I roll up my sleeves and bang on the door. And then there’s a decidedly female voice, that I instinctively know is Jess’ and my stomach turns. I actually have to bow over to fight down the nausea. It feels like taking a meat cleaver straight to the chest. The pain is so intense.

I hesitate to push in when I hear the door unlock, but as soon as it’s open and I see Damian’s face and those eyes that tell me everything without telling me, I know.

I throw the punch and he takes it standing. He sees it coming and takes it. He doesn’t block or duck. He just stands there, and then he’s the one bowed over. I look at Jess who rushes to him, screaming something, but I don’t hear her over the buzzing in my ears. I’ve never been so angry in my entire fucking life. Never. I want to scream at her. I want to shake her and ask why, but that’s shit Ray would do. And I am not him. I’ll never be him.

Instead I yell at my best friend that if he doesn’t tell my sister what he’s done, I will.

I have everything and nothing to say to her, so I tell her she’s a mistake. All of it was.

And then I have to get away. The pain in my chest pulls tight. My vision tunnels, I’m running down the stairs and out into the street searching for an alley, a darkened stairwell,anythingwhere I can push myself against a wall and calm down before I die. But really what’s left? What the fuck am I scared of dying for? I’ve got nothing left to lose. The pain eases slightly.

Fuck it all. Honestly.

Jess

I don’t call Alex. He doesn’t call me. We don’t text. It’s just cold turkey.

I got the job. Nice woman. She’s about my age. Pretty, but dresses like she’s 55 and not 29.

It’s October 2nd and the first day at my new job in the city I just moved to. Admittedly, it’s been a bit of a tumultuous start, but at the end of the day, we all make mistakes. That whole night was mine. Meeting Alex. Leaving with his friend, who very clearly is in some sort of serious relationship. It’s not like he told me, but even if he had, I don’t know that it would have made a difference. Because that’s just me. (I can be honest and accept that I’m not a model human being, okay?) (It’s freeing, honestly. You should try it, too.)

I’m meeting my new boss in her office today, and this is good. I’m feeling great in my pencil skirt, Prada heels, and fitted white blouse. Classic, chic. Ready for the new Jess.

When the elevator opens, my new boss is standing right outside waiting for me.

“Great! You're punctual, love it!” She high fives me, and then leads me to a back corner office.

“So my office is up here at the end. You’ll have the cubicle right outside of it, though honestly, if I’m here, expect to spend most of your time in mine.” As we walk, she talks. About the perks of the company. (Onsite masseuse sounds lovely.)

“And this is it!” Her office is large. I mean way bigger than I expected. There’s a seating area with a large leather sofa and two upholstered lounge chairs. There's bookshelves covered in kid’s art and family photos. And then her desk is a monster, complete with three monitors.