Page 29 of Bloom

“We weren’t holding hands,” I reply. “We were talking about what happened in New York and he just had his hand on my arm, like a comforting thing, and she happened to see it. And besides, he’d already broken up with her, so he wasn’t her boyfriend anymore.”

“He didn’t break up with her,” says Ginny. “He was just confused about everything and throwing out the good with the bad.”

“Whose interpretation is that — yours or Allison’s? Because it sounds not one iota like what I heard from James.”

“Since when are you and James so close?” she asks suspiciously. “But then, I guess you’re close to everyone, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand. “And you know, maybe you should be a little more worried about what makes James happy and a little less about what fits into your plans.”

“Yeah,” she snorts. “Like your life’s turning out so well? I don’t think anyone needs advice from you.”

Chapter 18

“You look a little stressed,” says Max.

Let’s see: one housemate apparently hates me, one appears to be scared of me, and the other has some kind of multiple personality disorder that has him ignoring me one minute and slavishly protecting me the next. What’s stressful about that?

“I think it’s time you meditated,” he suggests.

“You may be right,” I sigh. “Ginny isn’t speaking to me. She blames me for the whole Allison thing.”

“You know what Ginny needs?” Max asks.

“Meditation?”

“To get laid.”

“Those two things don’t solve everything, Max,” I tell him.

He looks at me as if I’ve grown a unicorn horn off of my forehead. “Of course they do.”

**

I go to the meditation studio with Max. It doesn’t really look all that clean. Maybe that’s why people close their eyes when they meditate. I look at the grimy blankets and bolsters and wish I’d brought my own yoga mat. Or some disinfectant.

The teacher guides us all to close our eyes, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about the dirt.

She starts telling us to take deep breaths. I listen for a few moments and then I ignore her and think about James. Why is he so hot and cold with me? If he thinks I’m so fantastic, then why does he avoid me like the plague?

The leader tells us to release our thoughts, which I do for about 30 seconds. And then I think about how angry I am at Ginny, and how badly I wish I knew what James was thinking.

I breathe in to the count of 10, hold for 10, release for 10. Then I go back to thinking about James.

Breathe.

Stop thinking about him.

Breathe.

He must just work out way more than we know because his abs … everything … is perfect. Where is he working out?

Breathe.

Maybe he wouldn’t even be good in bed.

Breathe.

Please. You know he’s good in bed. And would it matter if he wasn’t? No. I mean it wouldn’t be ideal, necessarily, but I like him for more than that.