Page 6 of Unhitched

Wanting to let him get his work done, I get settled for the night. I pull yellow plaid pajama shorts from my suitcase along with a pink sports bra–there should be some color in this place, after all. Rezipping my bag, I tuck them under my arm and pad off to the bathroom.

After I’ve changed and tucked my clothes away in my bag, I go to scope out the kitchen.

I open every single cupboard and drawer for no reason–the way my sister and I used to do whenever Mom and Dad would take us on vacation.

It was an unspoken first task–searching through every nook and cranny–one I’ve carried on to every new place I go.

Second was always building a fort out of couch cushions in the living room.

I consider building one now to give me a secluded space, but I have a feeling it wouldn’t go over well.

As I pull a box of Cap'n Crunch from the counter, I imagine the reaction Kace would have if he ventured out of his room for dinner and found me hiding under a tent made of pillows and sheets.

Giggling at the image in my head, I pour the yellow, sugary goodness into a square matte black bowl. Who uses square bowls ?

Making my way back to the couch, I sink into the leather.

It’s not the most comfortable couch, but it sure as heck beats the backseat of my Jeep.

I need to come up with a way to thank Kace for this.

Starting by making sure not to bother him, I set my cereal on the coffee table and dig my portable DVD player and DVD case from my duffel bag.

They’re both covered in Happy Bunny and holographic angel and devil stickers, designs faded and cracked from wear and tear.

I got this thing for my tenth birthday. It’s a miracle that it still works perfectly after twenty years.

I swear everything from the 90s and early 2000s were made to last while things today are made to break.

Unfolding the screen, I sort through my choices–all my favorites.

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Sweet Home Alabama.

Just Married. Uptown Girls– RIP Brittany Murphy.

Of course The Lizzie McGuire Movie. God, I love Hilary Duff.

She’s the queen. I flip through four other Hilary movies and finally land on A Cinderella Story.

Shocker. I chuckle to myself as I slip the worn disk from its sleeve, knowing exactly which scenes will glitch from wear and tear scratches.

Plugging my headphones into the jack, I rest the player on the arm of the couch and lean forward to pick up my cereal.

The first bite hits my taste buds with perfect texture–part mushy from where the bottom half was soaking in milk and part crunchy.

I love the way it tears up the roof of my mouth as I sink back into the leather couch and the opening credits start, instantly capturing me as if I haven’t seen this movie hundreds of times.

An hour and a half later, I reach for my phone, knowing I need to bite the bullet and call my sister.

She’s been blowing up my phone for days.

Like my parents, she knows Matt and I broke up.

I told them I was staying with a friend so they wouldn’t worry about me living in my car, but I refused phone calls because I wasn’t in a place to hear the things they say every time.

It’s so much easier to not fall apart and to stay in a positive mindset when I’m not being reminded how far behind in life I am.

Ella answers on the second ring. “Hey! Finally! Hold on.” The rustling in the background makes me picture her getting my nephew settled with a toy before she sneaks away to the kitchen for a quiet conversation. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Finally got a good night’s sleep.” I keep my voice low to assure Kace isn’t bothered.

“Did you and Matt get back together?”

“No…” My brows scrunch even though she can’t see me.

“Why would we do that?” Matt really is a good guy, but he didn’t see the world in the same way I did.

I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.

Differences can be good–helpful even in keeping excitement in a relationship–but I think it has to be the right things you have conflicting views on.

You still have to be able to support the other person.

While he allegedly “supported” my dream, it turned out he didn’t have much faith in me at all.

I wish my sister understood that sacrifice wouldn’t be worth any positives.

“I don’t know, Mya. I was hoping maybe you got tired of drifting through life.

” As long as we’re not talking about settling down, my sister is one of the sweetest people I know, second only to her husband.

But it’s like she used up all her patience getting her own life together that she doesn’t think there’s any time left for me to do the same.

“Come on, El,” I whine. This is why I haven’t called her since the breakup.

I know it comes from a place of love, but it’s too tough for the situation.

My family hardly even knew Matt– my ticking clock is just driving them insane.

I lie back on the couch, flinging my feet over the back.

“That’s not fair. Why would you want me to be with someone who isn’t right for me? ”

She sighs on the other end of the line. “I just want you to be happy.”

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I know she wants what’s best for me.

She wants me to find what she has because it’s what I’m looking for too–someone perfect for me and my dreams. It’s part of why I stayed with Matt longer than I wanted to.

I thought maybe if I had more patience like Ella, waiting for things to work out with her and Mack, it could be the same for me.

“So you’re sleeping on someone’s couch again or what?

” Even though her words are soft, the jab stings because I’ve never moved to someone’s couch before this.

In between boyfriends, I’ve moved back in with my parents' friends. I had a space there–a bed. But when I started dating Matt, I insisted that this time would be different and that they should rent out the basement apartment to make extra money. I thought that without an escape plan, I’d be more committed.

“It’s temporary. I promise.” I want to tell her about Kace, but it feels like if I speak it aloud, I’ll jinx it. Even though we’ve only had two interactions, I’m confident the man I first met isn’t the person he is. There’s a steadiness about him that feels so complimentary to the chaos in my head.

But until I know more about the extent of this situation, the last thing I need is my sister confusing my thoughts more.

She has this theory about how when you have a space that’s truly yours, it’s so much easier to take control of the other areas in your life, and that’s not the route I want to take right now.

“Do you need some help to get into an apartment? I can cosign for you.”

I’m more than capable of getting an apartment.

I have good credit. I can afford it. Maybe not one as nice as Kace’s, but I could.

The thought of being locked into a lease when I don’t know the next step in my life just sounds miserable.

It’s infuriating that because I don’t have security in their eyes, despite the hype my friends and family give me about my work, they don’t think my crafting business is sustainable. I know what I’m doing. Mostly anyway.

My nephew yells for Ella, saving me. She says something about this conversation not being over and makes me promise to call her soon. Attempting to keep her judgments from infiltrating the bubble I’ve created for myself, I click another DVD into place.

I’m well into my next movie, invested in Adam Sandler trying to woo Drew Barrymore with a walrus–I love those two acting together–when Kace finally makes an appearance.

He glances my way, not even long enough to see what I’m doing, and gives me an awkward wave before heading to the kitchen.

Not a minute later, without a second glance, he’s back in his room for the rest of the night.