Page 25 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Seventeen

LILA

I didn’t think I’d be this upset. We’ve broken up before, and after the first few times I mostly stopped caring, but this feels different. A part of me knows it’s final in a way none of the others have been.

We want different things, and that’s not going to change.

The words I’ve told myself every thirty minutes this morning echo in my head, and even though I know they’re the truth, it doesn’t hurt any less.

I woke up in Cal’s guest room yesterday, and from the moment I opened my eyes, I’ve been a mess. I made some bullshit excuse he probably saw right through and hightailed it out of there. I can’t believe I chose him over being alone.

Who am I kidding? Of course I believe it, because I’d probably do it again, but I haven’t yet.

I’ve found comfort in Indian takeout and reruns of Grey’s Anatomy and don’t plan on leaving my couch for the foreseeable future.

Well, until that future includes a meeting I can’t take from my living room, but so far, Kevin’s been able to arrange everything to be virtual.

And with McSteamy on the screen, it’s much easier to read through contracts.

At least the Thanksgiving holidays are coming up, so I can hunker down and think about nothing other than my own existential despair at the fact that I’ll probably just die alone. Maybe I should adopt a cat. Or six cats. If Taylor Swift can have three, I need at least six to be a cat lady, right?

I’m just closing my laptop for the day, all crises averted for now, when there’s a knock at my door.

I’m not entirely surprised to see Katie standing there, holding a Pequod’s pizza box and a bottle of wine under one arm.

“I brought sustenance.”

“You know I normally can manage to feed myself.”

“Yes, but there’s no reason that you shouldn’t be able to lean on your friends.”

“How do you even know? It’s not like we’ve talked about it,” I grouse, but open the door wider to let her into the room.

“I’m really sorry about that. I tried calling you back yesterday.”

“I turned my phone off.” I turned it off as soon as I got home from Cal’s. I didn’t, and still don’t, need his pity or anything Dennis might say.

“Do you want me to go?” Katie asks, and I know if I told her yes, she’d go, leaving me the pizza and all my feelings to sort through on my own.

“No,” I almost whisper, the tears threatening to spill over.

“Oh honey.” She wraps me in a hug, and I let myself cry into my best friend’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

We stand there until my sobs reach a soft sniffle, and I pull away.

“Thanks, I needed that.”

“No thanks needed. What are best friends for?”

“I thought they were for tequila shots,” I say with a laugh.

“Well, I did bring wine.” She grins.

“How did you know I needed this?” I ask, opening the pizza box.

“It’s what makes me so awesome obviously.”

I roll my eyes and grab two plates from the cupboard, sliding two pieces of the veggie pizza onto one of them.

Katie’s already emptied the bottle of wine into two wineglasses and pushes one toward me.

“Cal told me I should check on you.”

“He did?”

“Well not exactly, but he told me what happened the other night and mentioned you hadn’t returned any of his texts since. But then, when you didn’t answer any of my texts, I knew it was a Pequod’s level emergency.”

“Emergency might be a stretch.” I cut into the slice and groan as I take the first bite, I almost never order deep dish, but it’s so good.

“Really? What show are you bingeing?”

“ Grey’s ,” I say sheepishly.

“Right.” She rolls her eyes, biting into her own slice. “Not an emergency.”

“Hey, it’s a good show.”

“I never said it wasn’t, but you only watch it when you’re upset. It’s like the opposite of a comfort show.”

“Shonda is a master. She makes you feel things.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But maybe focus on your own feelings instead?”

“Fine, what do you want to watch?”

“ Love Island UK just dropped their new season on Hulu.”

“Oh, hell yes.” We leap onto the couch, and I start the new season. By the second episode we’re both laughing and speaking in bad British accents about the absurd number of scaffolders—what even is a scaffolder? —and how great it’d be to be twenty-three with no responsibilities again.

As the third episode ends, Katie finally asks what I’ve been dreading.

“So, do you want to talk about it?”

I sigh. “Not yet. I probably should. I just can’t really process it yet. We’ve broken up before, but this feels different, you know? I’m not really sure what to do.”

“You know where to find me when you do.”

I start the fourth episode and smile at her.

“Thanks Katie.” I pause. “Do you want to talk about why you went home to LA?”

“Not yet.” She gives me a sad smile.

I nod, settling back into the couch. She’ll talk when she’s ready, but Katie’s one to process everything in her own mind first.

Katie coming over kicked my ass in gear. No more wallowing, I am going to process my feelings like an adult.

Step one is admitting a problem, right?

After another day of working from home, I’m ready to get out of my apartment for more than the elevator ride downstairs to meet the delivery guy from Bhoomi.

There aren’t many places I can go where my day-four hair will be socially acceptable, and I don’t have the face for a slicked back bun.

There’s one place, though, that I can always go no matter what I look like.

A judgement-free zone where I can be myself.

As I step into the pottery studio, peace settles into my gut. The stress and sadness melting away as I wedge out my clay and choose a wheel. Denise waves at me from where she’s loading the kiln, and I grin at her.

I’m elbows deep in clay when a commotion at the front door pulls me from the vase I’m working on, a Christmas gift for Kayla.

“No, she’s definitely here, I tracked her location,” a familiar voice says. My head snaps up to find not only Katie but Cal and Theo too standing in the small entryway of the studio. I can’t look at Cal, the embarrassment from weeping all over him the other night too fresh.

“Wow.” Theo gives a low whistle. “That’s really good Lila.”

I look at the vase and shrug. It’s slightly uneven at the belly, but overall, I’m not embarrassed by it. Handmade art is always a bit unique.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We came to see you, obviously,” Katie answers.

“Uh, okay. But why?”

“We’re taking you out,” announced Theo, a proud grin spread across his face.

“Right now?”

“You could change first.” Katie looks pointedly at my clay splattered t-shirt, and I realize with horror that I resemble a homeless child in my oversized, mud-smeared shirt and cut-off jeans, glaze painting one side of my calf from where the electric mixer was a bit too intense.

“Or not. Who knows if they’ll let you through the door though.

” Cal laughs, and I flush. He’s moved closer to me, taking a closer look at my vase, and I suddenly feel the urge to squish it back into a ball.

“I mean, I’d let you in, but it’s not always up to me.

” The corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk, and my mouth is suddenly drier than it had been a minute ago.

“Well, I’ll let you guys have fun then.” I return my attention to the wheel in front of me.

“Lila.” Cal leans over the wheel, taking care not to disturb the almost-finished vase. “You’re coming with us. We’ll wait for you.”

I glance up and meet his gaze. The grey so light it’s almost silver today.

I swallow and nod. “Okay.” My voice is breathy, and I clear my throat.

“Yeah okay. I need to finish this piece and then clean up. And then , I need to shower and change.” I turn back toward my vase.

It really does look pretty good. I just need to add some texture and compress the rim before I can call it done for the day.

I’m choosing a metal rib tool when I notice that my three friends are standing there staring at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Theo shakes his head. “That just looks so cool. I kind of want to try it.”

“They have lessons you know. That’s how I got started.”

“Here?” His face lights up like a damn Christmas Tree, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, Denise can get you signed up if you’re serious.” I nod toward the woman in question.

“Oh, hell yes.” I roll my eyes as he sets off to sign up for a beginner pottery class.

“He’s going to be insufferable now, you know.” Cal smiles.

I shrug. “That’s different how?”

“Come on, now. More potter-ing, less talking,” Katie teases.

“Yes ma’am,” I say, saluting her with my metal rib.

I finish adding a swirl pattern along the belly of the vase, taking one final look before removing it to a wooden block to dry.

“Alright, let me just clean up, and we can go.”