Read Online The Status of All Things by Liz Fenton, Lisa Steinke - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Liz Fenton, Lisa Steinke
Ads: Link
send a bad picture sailing into our computer’s trash can?
I pull up my status box and type, imagining Max and Courtney’s reaction when my update appears in their feeds—hoping my strong statement will show them they can’t break me down.
Thanks for all your kind words—they have meant so much to me. But please don’t worry! I’m going to be fine!
I pause before clicking on the post button, the insincerity of my words sitting heavy in my chest. I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever written something negative on Facebook, instead focusing on the positive things I wanted people to know—a new account I’d landed at work, a fabulous restaurant where I’d scored a reservation, the roses Max had sent me on our anniversary. Even on days when I felt like absolute shit, I’d found something humorous to say or share, deciding no one would want to hear about my bad morning. Or maybe I just hadn’t wanted anyone to know I was having one? I had always thought myself above the Debbie Downers who posted about the (gasp!) problems in their lives—the ones who weren’t afraid to highlight unpopular opinions or rant about their kids, the people who didn’t fear judgment the same way I did.
But as I sit here now, staring at the candy-coated status update sitting on my computer screen, I wonder if those DebbieDowners have been onto something when they tell it like it is. (Well, except the ones who post about government conspiracy theories—those people are just cray-cray.) Obviously, always trying to make my own life look like a Norman Rockwell painting wasn’t getting me anywhere. Maybe it was time to be real.
I quickly delete the disingenuous words I’d just written and type a new status, hitting send before I can talk myself out of it.
Thank you all for thinking of me. I’m devastated that I’m not getting married. I wish I could do the past month over. Please DM me if you have access to a time machine.
CHAPTER FIVE
Be careful what you wish for, people. You just might get it.
The high-pitched beeping of the alarm jolts me awake from a dream—I was standing on the balcony of my bridal suite, watching Max and Courtney making out on the beach as the soft waves lapped over them. I tried to yell at them—to find out what the hell they thought they were doing—but no sound could escape my throat. I attempted to move but my feet felt like they were glued in place. I had no choice but to watch helplessly as they laughed in between kisses, Courtney biting Max’s lip playfully.
“Fuck you both!” I scream into my pillow, where a pool of saliva has formed.
“Good morning to you too!” a voice says—one that sounds identical to Max’s. But it can’t be him. He’s probably entangled in Courtney’s floral bedspread. And she’s probably biting his lip just like she was in my dream.
I bolt upright to find Max wrapped in the sheets beside me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.
Max cocks his head to the side and frowns at me. “I live here, remember?”
“Not anymore you don’t!” I hiss, trying to figure out what happened last night—how Max ended up in my bed. My head throbs like it would from a hangover, but I couldn’t remember having any alcohol. My mind foggy, the last thing I recall is talking to Max on the phone and melting down after.
I flinch as Max puts his hand on my arm. “Honey? Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m about as fine as anyone would be after what you did!” I jump out of bed and back away from him. “Did you slip in here last night after I was already asleep? I didn’t think I’d need to change the locks. I think you’d better leave— now . I’m sure your girlfriend is wondering where you are. She wouldn’t be too happy to find you back here with me.”
Max rolls off the bed and steps gingerly toward me, as if I’m a wounded animal he wants to help without getting bitten. “It’s me, Max, your fiancé . Last time I checked,
I pull up my status box and type, imagining Max and Courtney’s reaction when my update appears in their feeds—hoping my strong statement will show them they can’t break me down.
Thanks for all your kind words—they have meant so much to me. But please don’t worry! I’m going to be fine!
I pause before clicking on the post button, the insincerity of my words sitting heavy in my chest. I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever written something negative on Facebook, instead focusing on the positive things I wanted people to know—a new account I’d landed at work, a fabulous restaurant where I’d scored a reservation, the roses Max had sent me on our anniversary. Even on days when I felt like absolute shit, I’d found something humorous to say or share, deciding no one would want to hear about my bad morning. Or maybe I just hadn’t wanted anyone to know I was having one? I had always thought myself above the Debbie Downers who posted about the (gasp!) problems in their lives—the ones who weren’t afraid to highlight unpopular opinions or rant about their kids, the people who didn’t fear judgment the same way I did.
But as I sit here now, staring at the candy-coated status update sitting on my computer screen, I wonder if those DebbieDowners have been onto something when they tell it like it is. (Well, except the ones who post about government conspiracy theories—those people are just cray-cray.) Obviously, always trying to make my own life look like a Norman Rockwell painting wasn’t getting me anywhere. Maybe it was time to be real.
I quickly delete the disingenuous words I’d just written and type a new status, hitting send before I can talk myself out of it.
Thank you all for thinking of me. I’m devastated that I’m not getting married. I wish I could do the past month over. Please DM me if you have access to a time machine.
CHAPTER FIVE
Be careful what you wish for, people. You just might get it.
The high-pitched beeping of the alarm jolts me awake from a dream—I was standing on the balcony of my bridal suite, watching Max and Courtney making out on the beach as the soft waves lapped over them. I tried to yell at them—to find out what the hell they thought they were doing—but no sound could escape my throat. I attempted to move but my feet felt like they were glued in place. I had no choice but to watch helplessly as they laughed in between kisses, Courtney biting Max’s lip playfully.
“Fuck you both!” I scream into my pillow, where a pool of saliva has formed.
“Good morning to you too!” a voice says—one that sounds identical to Max’s. But it can’t be him. He’s probably entangled in Courtney’s floral bedspread. And she’s probably biting his lip just like she was in my dream.
I bolt upright to find Max wrapped in the sheets beside me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.
Max cocks his head to the side and frowns at me. “I live here, remember?”
“Not anymore you don’t!” I hiss, trying to figure out what happened last night—how Max ended up in my bed. My head throbs like it would from a hangover, but I couldn’t remember having any alcohol. My mind foggy, the last thing I recall is talking to Max on the phone and melting down after.
I flinch as Max puts his hand on my arm. “Honey? Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m about as fine as anyone would be after what you did!” I jump out of bed and back away from him. “Did you slip in here last night after I was already asleep? I didn’t think I’d need to change the locks. I think you’d better leave— now . I’m sure your girlfriend is wondering where you are. She wouldn’t be too happy to find you back here with me.”
Max rolls off the bed and steps gingerly toward me, as if I’m a wounded animal he wants to help without getting bitten. “It’s me, Max, your fiancé . Last time I checked,
Similar Books
