Sink First

Look Mama, I Made It

Daniel pushed the plate of eggs and toast in my direction and I eased them back.

    "I didn't know I was going to have to babysit," he said.

    There was quiet conversation going on all around us, but somehow I felt like we were the two most important people in the place. This barely crowded Waffle House felt like center stage. The fluorescent lights fading our brown skin, condensation on the windows, my hair tossed to one side wild and bushy, Daniel's Rolex catching my eye despite my attempt to keep eye contact with him. There was something I loved about being dressed in a thousand dollar ball gown while a $7.00 breakfast sat before me. It felt cinematic. Briefly I imagined this was being filmed. I was an actress and this shit show was a multimillion dollar movie that you all cringe through, but can't look away from. While Daniel was talking, I was thinking, "look mama, I made it."

    "How old are you ?" I cut him off and leaned onto the table.

    "Eat." He handed me a piece of toast and the scent of it made my stomach flip.

    "How old are you?"

    "Eat first."

    I grabbed the toast and took a small bite, willing myself to swallow it. "Now you." I waited like his answer was the only thing I wanted out of life.

    "33." He checked his phone. It was a little after 10pm and there was one message.

    "You're wrong. You don't have to babysit me." I bit another piece of toast, relieved when it went down easier.

    "Really? So what is this?" He pointed toward me. For a moment I saw myself from the outside. Mascara probably smeared, straps of my dress falling off my shoulder, eyes wet, nose red. I knew I looked like a girl who needed saving, because I felt like one.

I pulled the straps of my dress up and tilted my chin up. "I just had a bad reaction to that champagne. I'm not new to being drunk, I can handle myself."

    "Well Yara doesn't agree." He was looking at his phone. He turned it to me and I read the message. She was asking about me. She was telling him to look out for me because I couldn't look out for myself. She's fragile, she'd said.

    My eyes stung and everything blurred as they flooded.

    "Well, she's wrong, too."

    "Everybody's wrong I guess." Daniel sat back and sighed.

    It occurred to me that he had been excited about this night. He had planned to share it with his girlfriend, my best friend, and now it was ruined. Normal people would have apologized and mustered up some accountability, but my pride never slept and so I left it at that.

    "Everybody's always wrong," I said.

    "You were hysterical." His voice softened and I couldn't take the concern in it.

I took a deep breath and sat back against the cold booth. I was done talking about it. He wasn't my best friend, he wasn't even a friend at all. The last thing I was going to do was tell him all about my obvious panic attack and watch him pretend to care.

I held my left hand with my right. Massaging my fingers out of habit before I asked,

"Can we go now?"

_____________________________

Comment with your thoughts. How are we feeling about Mia so far? Yara? Daniel?