***
I know what you're thinking:
"Has she died?"
The answer is no.
An excuse I have not (I do. It's my job. It's soul-sucking).
It took some time (a very, very long time), but I managed to give Pearl and Julian their Happy Ending (because I'm optimistic in my writing, if not in real life).
Forgive me for the typos and any mistakes you'll undoubtedly find (Because every single person who knows English as a second language will agree that your prepositions are insane. Plus, I actually was an ADHD child and turning 30 hasn't changed a thing).
ENJOY!
XOXO,
Nana.
P.S.: Oh! I almost forgot. Contrary to what some Gringos (and I don't use this term derogatorily here) may think, we Brazilians speak no Spanish (and what a shame that is). That being said, my apologies to any one of you who actually can speak this sexy language, but I used Google translator. And Google is known to make mistakes.
*I should learn some Spanish, though. Best day of my life was when I spent two hours locked in a toilet with a Chilean boy.
***
5
PEARL
MY FINGERTIPS ARE TAINTED
with every hue on the rainbow. My watercolor drawings are strewn across my bedroom's floor, limiting the walking space and proving that my creativity hasn't deserted me, even if people have. I've been wringing my brain dry these past weeks searching for distractions, filling up my head with inventive stories to avoid being alone with my own regrets.
If I can imagine something, a new world to sink into, I won't have time to think. I can't allow my brain to conjure up thoughts of
him
even if, more often than not, he slips through the cracks in my mind.
"Knock, knock."
I swivel in my chair pushing away from my desk and my best friend comes into view. Lil stands by my door wearing her most aggrieved expression, as she often is lately. "I was thinking," she begins, tentatively. "Maybe we could go out for brunch?"
Hard as I try, my face grimaces all on its own. I hate the fact that I'm the source of my friend's worry. "Can't we order in?"
"Again?" She doesn't disguise her disappointment. She can't. It is a weight that pulls her eyes down, turning them into two droopy emeralds.
"We have successfully lived on delivery service for years, Liliane."
"Pearl." She bathes my name in her worry and the guilt I've been cultivating sprouts to life.
"Lil, please," I plead, squeezing my eyes shut. "
Please
. I'm not in the mood."
I haven't been easy company for Lil lately, I know. The awareness of it only increases the enormous shame I've been sitting on because I've let myself spiral down into this hole of self-pity.
Tiptoeing to avoid stepping on my work, Lil comes to sit cross-legged on my bed beside the furry curled ball that is our cat. She releases a long, heavy sigh I know precedes a scolding. "Honey, how long do you plan on keeping this up?"
I don't want to have this conversation with her. I don't want to have this conversation with anyone. Impossibly, I wish she were someone I knew how to lie to. "Lil..."
"It's a new year," she says. "It's the first day of a new year and I thought we should celebrate it."
"Didn't we celebrate the New Year enough last night?" I retort, acidly. "My head is still pounding. All those damn fireworks." All that booze, too.
"Honey, you barely leave this room," she says, cutting to the chase. "When you do, you run yourself ragged, sleep all day then haunt the loft all night. You've been ignoring the world for weeks now. This isn't healthy."
I throw sudden exasperated hands up. "What are you talking about? We were out until 5am
just
last night!"
"Yeah, and you drank too much!" She rebukes me. "You're lucky Cami isn't back yet. She'd never let you wallow in your drama like this!"
"Lucky me I don't have two of you to pester me all day!"
"Arrg!" Lil groans with uncharacteristic frustration. "This is bullshit, Pearl!"
"Well, Liliane! What would you have me do all day? I don't have a job anymore!" I regret my acerbity as soon as I've spilled it.
"Oh, great! You're being a bitch now!"
"
Fuck
!" I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. The lingering throbbing of a hangover headache has been plaguing me all day. Still, it is no excuse for my being an asshole. Lil has done nothing but support me. She isn't the one who hurt me. She isn't the one who deserves my bitchiness. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lil." I drop my limp hands to my lap. "It's just that I...I'm..."
"I know," she intervenes, soothingly. "You're heartbroken, Pearl. I get it."
I look up from my own hands to meet my friend's firm empathetic gaze. "You lost a job you loved. Two people you cared about walked out on you. You've had a ton of shit happen to you all at once."