Page 20 of Unhitched

Chapter twelve

Mya

“Thank you so much for doing this last minute.” Amber pulls the door open wider, welcoming me into her gorgeous home.

It took me nearly thirty minutes to get to Camas–the town next to Vancouver.

I rarely come this far east, even though I should.

The town is quaint–very Stars Hallow-y. I wouldn’t survive without a Target, but the antique store makes for a fun adventure.

Despite its lack of amenities, parts of the town are rich .

The gray stone home I’m walking into looks more like a mansion.

It has to be at least a two and a half million dollar place.

It’s too big for me–although it would be cool to have a crafting room.

“Of course. This is going to be so fun,” I say as she leads me through the open concept living room with floor-to-ceiling windows and down a hallway.

“My husband helped me clear out the second living room, so we’ll have plenty of floor space for everyone to work.

” Her brown hair is perfectly pulled away from her face with a soft bow headband, and her smile is wide and inviting as she pushes open a door.

We step inside an empty room with only a wine bar in the corner next to a TV mounted on the wall. On the screen, Mean Girls is queued up.

By the time Amber helps me bring everything inside and set up, her friends begin to arrive, all of them just as sweet.

I wish I had friends like this–ones who make time to see each other even if they’re married and have kids.

The more my friends start checking off those milestone moments, the more distanced I feel from all of them. I miss my sister.

The group circles around me as I start the demonstration, then find their places on the floor to copy me. The movie plays as background noise as they work on their blankets, and I work on another in between helping them when they get stuck.

“How are things going with Johnny?” Amber asks one of her friends–Chloe is her name, I believe.

“Ugh.” Chloe sighs, her auburn hair sliding down her back as she tilts her face toward the ceiling dramatically before reorienting herself.

“Not any better. He’s so clingy. It’s too much.

I mean, I love that he’s into me, but not like this.

He doesn’t understand that I need time to myself, and it has nothing to do with him. I’m suffocating.”

“Did you try telling him?” another friend asks, pausing her blanket-making.

“Yeah. But he makes me feel guilty that I don’t want to spend all our time together when we’re such a new couple.”

“Just dump him,” Amber says. “There’s more fish in the sea.”

Chloe rolls her eyes at the cliche. “If only it were that easy. I’ve tried several times to say that maybe we have different priorities that don’t mesh, but he doesn’t get it.

I’ve tried not responding. I’ve tried telling him I’m busy.

It always results in him blowing up my phone.

” She checks said phone. “He’s texted me nine times since I’ve been here.

NINE. And he whined all afternoon about how I was ‘missing our show.’”

“Maybe you should block him,” a blonde who has been quietly crocheting suggests .

“I thought about it,” Chloe says. “But I think he would just assume something is wrong with my phone and show up at my house.” Her face scrunches. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m overreacting. Or crazy. I should be psyched he’s so into me.”

“Don’t gaslight yourself.” The blonde freezes her hands holding the chunky yarn. “But if you’re really unsure, you could invite one of us to hang out with you two and we can help.”

“Good idea,” Amber adds. “You know we’ll be honest with you about if we think you’re just nervous about this level of commitment or if he’s really not right for you.”

Chloe nods. “And if he’s not right for me?”

“We could help make sure your break up sticks,” Amber says.

“Having one of you there would probably make it a hell of a lot easier to follow through and not back down when he gives me sad puppy eyes.” She chuckles.

“I think it’s worth a try,” the blonde insists.

“Why is it so hard to break up with people? Even when it’s not meant to be?

” Chloe asks but is met with silence from her friends as she brushes her thumb repeatedly over the yarn in her lap.

I wonder if they all have ideas running through their heads like mine.

Because confrontation is hard. Because it sucks hurting someone.

Because what if this is the best there is?

What if the other fish in the sea are all sardines?

“I don’t know, but I think this plan is worth a try,” Amber says, and the rest of the girls agree.

“It won’t hurt. Anyone free on Thursday? We have plans to go to the food truck pod. It would be an easy place for a friend to crash the date.”

“Damn. The twins have dance class,” Amber says.

“Shoot, I have night classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” the blonde says.

The other six girls list their excuses for not being able to drop their plans at the last minute .

“I can do it,” I offer, and everyone’s heads spin in my direction to where I’m finishing the end of my blanket.

“Really?” Chloe asks.

I shrug. “Yeah, why not? I don’t know you well enough to tell if he’s specifically right for you, but I think I could go off your vibe when you’re around him.

” I’m not sure why I jumped so quickly at the opportunity.

A small part of me wants to feel included, and I’m drawn to Chloe’s friendship for some reason.

Maybe she’s just a kindred spirit. I know I’m not the only one who struggles with breakups, but lately, it’s felt like maybe at this age, I’m the only one who still struggles with having a good grip on life.

“I’ll totally buy you dinner. Or wine. Or beer. Or cider. They have such a good selection for everything.”

I chuckle. “I’m not worried about it. I know how hard it is to decide if someone is the one , and even harder to break up with them if they aren’t. I’m happy to help.”

“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Chloe tells me, her hands abandoning her blanket to fold over her heart. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I smile as I tie my yarn off at the end.

“Thank you again for doing this,” Chloe whispers as she links arms with me and leans in on our walk to the entrance of Oak Tree Station. After the blanket party, we swapped numbers and made a game plan. I’m here to tag along as an out-of-town friend.

“It’s not a big deal. I just hope it works.

” Based on how she talked about him, I have a feeling she already knows for certain he’s not right .

Sometimes we just need to be validated though, and I understand her pain of wanting a relationship to end but feeling so stuck when it comes down to it.

I wish I would have had help. I guess I did if you count Kace.

“Oh, there he is.” She points to the typical Pacific Northwest man headed toward us–you know, cargo shorts, T-shirt, flannel, a short beard and a hat from a local brewery. I find the vibe attractive overall, even though they all start to look the same.

“Johnny!” I run toward him at full speed and throw my arms around his neck.

I catch him off guard, nearly knocking him over in front of the glass door entrance, but he half-ass hugs me back as he braces himself.

When I met Chloe, she gave me a tight hug, like we actually had been friends forever.

She’s sweet, and welcoming, and while I don’t know much about her, I feel confident she should be with someone just as comforting as she is.

“You must be Mya.” He has a strained smile and a slight look of horror in his eyes. I know he’s a guy forced to hug a stranger, but he emanates get the fuck away from me vibes, and I don’t like it.

“Sure am! I’ve heard so much about you. It’s shocking there was time to learn anything considering you keep our girl captive, but I’ve managed.”

His eyes widen before he shifts gears. “I haven’t heard that much about you,” he says like it’s an insult.

I shrug. “Buy me a drink, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“Yeah.” He leans past me to kiss Chloe–not even noticing how uncomfortable she is–then holds the door open for us.

I grab Chloe’s hand, pulling her away from Johnny and straight to the bar–just to see how supportive he is about his girlfriend seeing her long-distance friend. I sense him standing next to Chloe a moment later.

“What are you having?” Chloe asks me.

I scan the cider section of the electronic board above the taps. “I can’t decide between the mango cider or the blue raspberry! You? ”

“That’s what I was looking at too!”

“Perfect. Let’s get both and share?” I know Chloe already has her own group of friends, but I’m hoping she has room for one more.

“Let’s do it!” she says.

“Wait,” Johnny cuts in. “I thought we were going to share two beers? That’s our thing.”

Their thing. They’ve been together for less than a month. He can’t claim basic friendship things as theirs yet. And even if he can, it doesn’t seem like something to throw a fit about.

“I’d rather have cider tonight. Sorry,” Chloe tells him, making eye contact with the beertender to get her attention.

“That shit tastes like sitting in a hair salon,” he mutters. Judgy much?

“Hi. What are you in the mood for?” the woman behind the bar asks with a bright smile.

“One mango and one blue raspberry cider please,” Chloe answers.

“And whatever he’s having.” She nods toward Johnny, who begrudgingly orders a porter.

It’s funny to me that he doesn’t even see the benefit of getting to try a beer that Chloe clearly wouldn’t like based on the way she mutters “gross” under her breath.

We get our drinks and choose a picnic table on the patio. Even with the awning heaters and our sweatshirts, it's a little chilly, but the fresh air is perfect. “Can you watch our drinks while we go get food first?” Chloe asks her boyfriend.