20 Million Tiny Particles

26. Launch, II

Sheridan texted me early one morning. We hadn't spoken in a couple of days following the conference, but her message came as if nothing had happened. She didn't stay mad.

"New product. Come see?"

I figured I should check my mailbox too. Now that I was officially "in" as a Diamond Ambassador, I didn't have to rely on Sheridan for the hookup for new drops. Regardless, I still texted back that I'd come by the gym later. "You can come to my house whenever," she replied. "Not working today."

Huh. I wondered why, but I didn't ask. I had to go about my day as normally as I could, working behind the counter with Ms. Lavonne. Last night, Dad filled me in on some of the details he'd been keeping close to the vest regarding the sale of the store. Lavonne was in the know, he assured me, which eased my angst at least a little bit knowing she wouldn't be out on the street with no notice.

He and his real estate agent were in meetings with a few different property managers and potential buyers. They were only in serious talks with individuals who would take on management of the store in its current state. "No one is going to tear it down," he promised. That made me feel better, too -- that I could move on without giving up the option of ever coming back.

Around four, the shop was dead, and I was feeling my stomach turn as I put off seeing Sheridan even longer. "I've got to run an errand," I told Ms. Lavonne. "But I'll be back in just a second."

She told me to take my time, but I pretended I didn't hear it so I could keep the pressure on myself to hurry back.

I pulled into Sheridan's driveway and gave myself a pep talk as I walked up the steps. Act as normal as you can, I told myself. You can't apologize for something she didn't tell you she was upset about. Besides, shouldn't she be the one apologizing to me?

Weirdly, it felt like deja vu to the first time I came to Sheridan's house. It wasn't long ago, if you thought about it, but it felt like a different lifetime. I felt like a different person now, but I hadn't decided yet if I was better or worse.

She greeted me at the door in oversized gray sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Maybe I wasn't used to seeing her on her off-days -- or maybe I wasn't aware she took off-days -- but she looked markedly different. Tired. Normal. Less like the glowy thing I was used to her being as she floated through life in my peripheral.

"How have you been?" I asked as she led me through the house toward her bedroom. She dropped herself on the unmade bed, and I curled up in a cross-legged seat on the floor. "I feel like we haven't talked in forever."

"I know," she said, smiling. She looked like herself again as she spoke, easing the tension radiating out of my own brain. "I honestly crashed so hard after the conference. I took a couple days off work to recharge. I gotta detox, you know?" She reached for her water bottle on her bedside table. I couldn't help but eye it suspiciously.

"It's good to take a break."

"Mhm," she agreed. "But we gotta get back to the grind eventually." She tugged at the corner of one eye like she was wiping away remnants of sleep. "I can't believe summer's almost over. I do not want to think about school yet."

I didn't either, that was for sure. With Dad cementing the notion that we wouldn't have a home in town anymore, I had to decide quickly what was coming next for me. But that wasn't what I was here at Sheridan's to talk about. As much as I knew I had to crawl my way out of this summer and onto a new path, I also wanted to keep burrowing into the faux life I'd built full of glittering diamonds these last couple months. So hearing Sheridan bring up summer's end was not a welcome surprise.