Page 101 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
“You’ve changed. Already.”
Her words sound like an accusation. But they land like praise.
Good. I’m glad I’m not who I was when I left. But I can’t say that out loud, so I file it away for later.
I try to make it funny so this conversation will stop feeling so painful. “What? I wouldn’t have licked delicious sauce from my fingers before?”
“You know you wouldn’t have.”
Well, that’s a shame. I probably missed out on some good sauce.
But I don’t say that. Because Jana, my oldest and best New York friend, clearly disapproves. Not just of my manners, but of the whole idea of me not returning to New York.
“Oh, you’ve got—” Jana pauses, her hand reaching toward my forearm. “What is that?”
I glance down at my arm and see a smudge of blue paint just above my wrist. “Oh. It’s paint.” I must have missed it when I was cleaning up.
Cleaning up, because Ipainted.And it felt amazing.
“You paint?” Jana asks. Her tone isn’t judgy so much as it’s disbelieving.
I smile, a sense of peace blooming in my heart. “Yeah. I do.” I don’t offer her any other explanation. One, because it isn’t going to matter. And two, I’m throwing all my energy toward keeping things light, and discussing my painting history is not that. This has already been one of those dinners where polite conversation feels one step away from devolving into an intervention I don’t actually need.
Which I realize is probably what ninety-nine percent of people being interventioned (is that a word?) would say. But in my case, it’s true. Every minute I spend in the city makes my longing to go back home—yep,home—to Oakley more clear.
To Hunter,I mentally correct. But my chest tightens at the thought of him. After the weird way we left things, I’m in a rush to get back and have that conversation we put off because of Cassidy.
Which … he and I also need to discuss. Later.
“The office isn’t the same without you,” Jana says.
“You’re just saying that because now you have to be the kitchen police.”
She smirks. “Turns out, interns can be scared into cleaning out the fridge and washing the crusty plates Nelson leaves in the sink. It’s much more effective than passive-aggressive notes.”
I’m grateful Jana is steering our ship back to the safer waters of work talk. Though I’m not interested atallin office gossip, even from the source of the best gossip herself.
Until she has to go and mention the ex-who-should-not-be-named.
“Merritt, honestly. Yes, Simon sucks. As a human, but also as the head of the department. But you can’t let him derail your whole life.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
Her face says she doesn’t believe me. Understandable. Jana only knows me as her veritable twin. She knows New York Merritt. Not FULL Merritt, who isn’t just New York or Oakley, butme. I haven’t changed so much as I’ve stopped putting on the very well-fitting mask I wore for so long that it molded to my features.
“Are you sure?”
More now than I was before coming up here. I need to send Sadie a candy—or, no! Acoffee—bouquet. “Positive.”
Jana leans over and drops her voice to a whisper, as though someone at a neighboring table might be a corporate spy. “Because word is, they’re already discussing moving Simon to the Philly office.”
“He’s screwed up that muchalready?”
We all consider the Philly office to be like the airplane seats next to the lavatory. No offense to the city—it’s more about the staff in our branch there. Maybe I shouldn’t take glee in the idea of Simon being transferred to our worst branch. But I do. It fits him.
She sits back, crossing her arms and giving me a smug look. Jana is the patent holder of smug looks. “It was evident almost immediately that he is lost without your help.”
When I say Simon stole my promotion, I don’t meanliterally. Nothing so dramatic as the movies. Nothing nefarious or legally incriminating. But I didn’t realize how much my help actually helped him until I was watching his face after the announcement that he got the promotion the whole office assumed was mine.
