Cross the Line

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Saturday, October 27, 2007. 8:30 p.m. — Drive from Northville to Royal Oak.

 As she drove, Grace couldn’t stop obsessing about her dressing debacle. She wished she could say it was the only occurrence, but who was she kidding? It happened almost every time she went out — the drama, tears and general frustration with her body.

She was 26 years old. Lately, her age seemed to define who she was not. She was not young anymore, and she was not stick-skinny. Her self-image had always revolved around being a young, thin, carefree girl. This new stage in her life messed with her head and her self-perception.

 She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and reached for her car stereo. She turned up the old-school Dr. Dre and tried to drown out her thoughts. 

But the thoughts kept coming. She couldn’t help but think how she felt just as awkward now as she had when she was 12 years old. Her body was changing. Now instead of getting breasts, she was getting a second ass. Previously, the term “saddlebag” would never have been in her vocabulary. In college, Grace used her clothes to show things off. Now, at 26, she used clothes to cover things up.

It was more than just her body. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She wasn’t the console-ee going through her first breakup. She was the console-er this time. While she was happy to offer advice and support to Kelly, it was still unnerving to be on the flip side of the coin. To be the girl with the experience.

And yet, she didn’t feel like an adult. People didn’t treat her that way, either. At work, she was considered too young and too inexperienced. She was always first met with skepticism rather than respect.

She wasn’t married. So any relationship problems she had were always dismissed by co-workers — relationships just weren’t that serious if you weren’t married. She didn’t have kids, so, of course, how could she know anything about real responsibility?

Awkward, awkward, awkward. That’s how she felt. In some strange limbo where she wasn’t on either side of the fence. She didn’t have enough traits in any category to tip the scales. She felt lost.

Grace turned onto Main Street in Royal Oak. The street lights filled the night with a feeling of warm expectancy. She’d be at the bar in less than five minutes and needed to shake away these feelings. She knew she was in that proverbial young-adult phase of trying to figure out who she was, but her depression was more than just not liking her job or her waist size. It was something else, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Somehow, she knew her feelings were different than those of her peers.

            Grace parked the car. Tonight was not the night to figure it all out. She was there for her friend. That was the focus. She got out of the car, sucked in her gut and walked into the bar — forcing a smile all the way.