Getting Over Garrett Delaney(26)
Author: Abby McDonald

“I’m sorry!” I turn to quickly jam three new filters under the unceasing drip-drip-drip. “It’s crazy here.”

“But Sadie —”

“Hey, miss? I’m waiting here —”

“Order up!”

“So, like, I have an allergy to sugar, and —”

The buzz of demands kicks up to a roar — moving beyond chaos to an utter disaster zone. Hurricane warning, Category 5. And then, through it all, I suddenly hear a faint but unmistakable sound.

My cell phone is ringing.

And it’s not just any ringtone. It’s Garrett’s, the familiar melody of Belle & Sebastian, aka his favorite band in the known universe.

“Sadie? What’s going on?” LuAnn pushes through the crowd, out of breath. “I saw the crowd from down the street. Where’s Dominique?”

But I barely hear her. I don’t hear any of them anymore. Everything fades away to that one sound, taunting me, begging me, commanding me to go answer my phone.

He’s calling.

My heart leaps. Like a girl possessed, I abandon the espresso machine and leap for my purse. My cell phone tumbles out and skitters across the floor. I lunge after it on all fours behind the counter.

“Hello?” I press my hand to my free ear to hear better. “Garrett?”

“Hey, Sadie.” His voice is distant and blocked by static.

“I can’t hear you. Are you there?” I duck lower to the ground to block them all out. On some level, I hear a clatter and a high-pitched yelp, but it doesn’t matter, not when Garrett actually picked up the phone and called me. He’s not mad! I haven’t ruined things! “What’s going on?”

“Nothing much, I just figured I’d check in. Are you OK?” he asks. “Your voice mail sounded kind of weird.”

“No, I’m fine. Good!” I yelp, still crouched behind the counter. “I just didn’t want you to worry. You know, that I haven’t been in touch.”

Garrett laughs. “You know, I didn’t even notice. Things have been so busy here. . . . You didn’t . . . and with the . . . tomorrow.”

“Garrett? You’re breaking up!” I hear static and bursts of noise.

“Look, I’ve got to run. . . .”

“Garrett?”

But he’s already gone.

I hang up.

“Sadie?”

I stay on the floor, clutching my phone. He didn’t notice? I’ve been killing myself for three days now, fighting my epic battle not to pick up the phone — aching with missing him — and he barely even noticed I wasn’t around?

“Sadie!”

Nothing’s changed, I realize, feeling completely lost. Sure, I made my big detox plan and thought it would make a difference, but here I am, still orbiting around him as if he’s my gravity, still filled with thoughts of him — even if they’re thoughts about how not to think of him.

“Sadie!”

I finally look up. LuAnn is standing two feet away from me. “You’re here,” I say, flooded with relief. “Great.”

“Great?” she splutters, and only now do I realize she’s turned a strange shade of pink. No, make that raspberry — clashing with her crazy punk red hair and the fluorescent pink of her retro blouse. “Does this really look great to you?!”

I look.

The espresso machine is going into meltdown, gushing scalding black liquid in a tide of deadly caffeine. Three of Kayla’s brats have broken free and are splashing around in the mess, tracking gritty footsteps across the café floor, while the four-deep throng of angry customers jostles and yells. Plates are piled high, with overdue orders cooling next to stacks of dirty dishes.

I exhale in a whoosh, and just like that, the madness subsides. The real world slips back into focus, and suddenly it hits me: I’m sprawled facedown on the floor in a puddle of frothed milk, and preschoolers are staring at me in shock and disgust.

“I have a problem,” I say slowly, pulling myself into an upright position. The truth is ugly, but nowhere near as ugly as the half-eaten eggplant panino that was just inches from my cheek. I can’t keep this secret any longer, so I say it again, every word full of cringe-worthy, cheek-flushing shame.

“I have a serious problem, and his name is Garrett Delaney.”

LuAnn swings into action and calls the whole crew in to save the place from complete chaos. Denton and Jules, another barista, take duty out front, while the rest of them sit me down in the back office for what they call a staff meeting but I know is more like an intervention. Even Kayla joins us after dropping the kids back at the community center; she lines up with LuAnn, Dominique, Aiko — all of them looking at me as if I’m teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown. And I guess I could be, if the scene out front is anything to go by.

“So this is all because of a guy?” LuAnn repeats slowly.

I nod, shameful.

“OK . . .” she says with a mixture of relief and confusion. “I thought it might be drugs or something.”

“You’ve been acting kind of weird these last few days,” Aiko agrees. “Really nervous and jittery.”

“She could be lying,” Dominique announces. She lunges forward, takes my face in her hand, and turns it side to side to examine me. “See? Her eyes are all bloodshot.”

“I’m not on anything!” I break away. “I promise. I can’t even drink more than two cups of coffee a day!”

“Hmmm,” Dominique sits back, stony-faced.

“But I still don’t get it,” Kayla says, speaking up for the first time. “Garrett’s away at camp, and you said you guys have always just been friends.”

“We were. I mean, we are.” I pick at the skin around my thumbnail, avoiding their confused, judgy eyes. “But . . . I’m in love with him.” The words sound strange and foreign; it might just be the first time I’ve ever admitted it out loud.

“And?” LuAnn prompts.

“And I’m trying not to be.” I bite my lip and plunge on. “I had this plan to get over him, a whole detox program to get him out of my life, with rules and steps, and little gold stars. But I don’t want him out!” I find myself carried away with frustration. “I miss him so much, it hurts. I just want us to be friends again. Just friends.”

I look up, hoping they understand what I’m trying to do. But instead of sympathetic gazes, I find a line of blank stares.