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I click on the girl’s profile, and sure enough, it’s the girl he cheated on me with. I recognize her name from their text messages. In fact, it was one poorly-timed text that clued me in to his cheating in the first place. He was showing me a picture on his phone when the banner across the top popped up with her name and a message that said, “Lie and tell her you work late tomorrow.” Of course, the fight that ensued led him to admitting everything and calling me all sorts of names. Apparently they had been sneaking around for months with her encouraging him to lie and string me along so he could get away with taking advantage of my empty apartment while I was at work. Who knows how long he would have strung me along if I hadn’t seen that message.

Thank god for small favors, I guess.

I’m pissed now, because even though he cheated on me, I had assumed it was just a physical thing. But no, apparently they had an emotional relationship too. Way to add salt to the wound.

The only thing that makes me feel better is the fact that her entire online profile is dedicated to one of those shitty MLM “health” companies that constantly fucks people over. Almost every post on her page is some copy/pasted success story about how the company’smagical, nutritiousshake supposedly made someone lose twenty pounds in two weeks, with two side-by-side pictures as proof. Of course, it’s obvious that one picture has awful lighting, bad angles, and and poor posture, while the other picture has perfect lighting, a flattering angle, and a lot of sucking in.

Every post on her page that’s not someone else’s “success” story is a post about how the company’s products “changed her life,” when in reality, she’s just drinking overpriced protein shakes, taking caffeine pills labeled as “fat fighters,” and drinking “cleanse” drinks that just give you diarrhea.

I usually feel bad for the people who get sucked into these predatory companies thinking they’ll make money or lose weight. They usually prey on people down on their luck and desperate for money, which is fucked up on so many levels. But frankly, I can’t feel bad for someone who knowingly fucked my boyfriend and encouraged him to deceive me while we were together, so I don’t particularly care if she throws her money and reputation down the pyramid scheme hole.

I block the two of them so I won’t be tempted to torture myself further, then go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine before sitting back down and losing myself in the movie for the next two hours.

I’m exhausted emotionally and physically by the time I head to bed, and I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER TWO

I GO TOthe gym again every day for the next week, adjusting my routine so that I don’t do anything where I need a spotter. I don’t see James at the gym anymore after Monday, which admittedly lifts a small weight off my shoulders. I still wonder what was up with him on Monday, why he was acting so weird.

Work occupies me from the typical 9-to-5 every day, and I’m grateful (for once) for the paperwork and phone calls that keep my mind occupied, even if everything is predictable and repetitive. I wait to go to the gym until 8 every evening, making sure that my gym time won’t overlap with Brady’s. I’m not sure if he even goes there anymore, but I don’t want to take the risk.

After my workout on Friday, I text my sister Marie, “Ice cream on Sunday?”

She responds a few minutes later. “For sure.”

Guilt gnaws at me because I haven’t seen her since Brady and I broke up, but I know deep down that she understands. It’s not like she’s a kid anymore, even though I still see her that way sometimes. She’s 17, about to graduate high school in a month, and already has her whole life planned out. That’s more than I can say for myself, working a boring office job after finishing only half of my Bachelor’s degree and wondering what the hell I’m doing with the rest of my life.

I spend Saturday sleeping in, buying groceries, cleaning my apartment, getting high as a reward for cleaning, and subsequently binge-watchingIs It Cake?On Netflix for three hours. The day flies by, and I fall asleep on the couch early in the night.

On Sunday, I meet Marie at Pop’s Ice Cream Shop downtown, the same place we’ve been going for ice cream since we were kids. She looks up when I walk in, taking a temporary pause from her incessant typing on her phone. She’s dressed fashionably, as always, and her short blonde hair looks like every strand was perfectly placed. It’s always been clear who the “pretty one” is in our family, that’s for sure.

“Hey, sis,” she says, standing to walk to the counter with me.

“Hey. How’ve you been?” I ask, embracing her in an affectionate side-hug. I look over the menu, even though I know I’m going to get the same thing I always do.

“I’m good,” she says before addressing the girl at the counter. “Two scoops of chocolate cherry in a waffle cone, please.”

The girl scoops the ice cream, and I order my usual two scoops of Superman flavor. Marie thinks I’m insane for getting the same flavor every time, but I love it. I prefer predictable enjoyment over the risk of not liking something new.

Marie and I sit back down at the small, round table, the metal chairs screeching against the floor when we pull them out.

“So, are you okay now or what?” Marie asks. She’s always straightforward and to the point, at least.

“For the most part. You know how it goes. Some days are fine, and some suck balls.”

She snorts. “You got that right.” She pulls her phone from her pocket and begins typing again, her nails making a clicking sound against the screen with every tap.

“So, you ready for college?” I ask.

“Hell yeah. This town sucks. Plus, Mom and Dad are breathing down my neck now that they know they’ll be empty nesters soon. It’s driving me nuts.”

I laugh, because I know exactly what she’s talking about. In the six months or so before I graduated high school, Mom and Dad became aggressively nurturing. It was sweet for a while, but it definitely got annoying. “It’s just because they’ll miss you,” I tell Marie. “Especially because you’ll be out of state. I’m at least just across town from them.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s still annoying, though.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about it in three or four months. Though, it will suck that you won’t have weekly ice cream dates with yourfavoritesister anymore,” I tease.

“You mean myonlysister,” she fires back, flashing me a smile. “So, do you have a new man yet?” she asks.

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