Minor Inconveniences

You had fought hard to stay in the car, but here you are, sitting in the waiting room. Defeated.
You don’t understand why it’s universally expected that a person must outgrow their fear of the dentist. It didn’t matter that they hid the office inside a Craftsman’s home; the well-worn, hospitable exterior couldn’t make up for the waiting room’s artificial quality. The misshapen furniture and electric fireplace desperately desired to capture modernity but fell short of achieving the style due to the layout’s lack of connectivity. Instead, the space lacked any identity and it did nothing to ease your nerves.
You’ve only been here five minutes and you’re envisioning the walk back to your apartment. Ana is probably already back there now, since Chatterbox Dentistry isn’t more than four blocks from Forster Woods. Why you needed a Prius and an escort to get you here speaks volumes about your character.
You’re currently pretending to be invested in the content on your phone while trying to decipher what the receptionist is whispering to her colleague. You remind yourself that not everything is about you, yet when the two laugh, you can’t help but think it’s at your expense.
You feel eyes on you and begin to suspect they’re coming from the person sitting in the armchair across from you. He’s probably in on the joke.
Ana would second your observation if she was here, and would also likely credit the attention you were receiving to your “frumpy” appearance. She had begged you to wear anything besides your baggy gray sweats and the shirt with the frog wearing a cowboy hat, but your argument in favor of comfort miraculously won out.
Your stomach clenches, and you remember how Ana had talked you out of eating anything this morning. Her reasoning sounded ironic now, “What if you feel sick?”
Ana always suggests water before food for an empty stomach. From her ideal bodily proportions and effortless sex appeal, she embodied what you aspired to be, so the water dispenser near reception had never looked more appealing.
Your head slightly spins as you go to stand and walk over to the counter, but you’re determined to get a drink. You grab a paper cup and fill it to the brim before returning to your seat. When you drink it in one go, regret suddenly hits as the cramps turn into ferocious waves.
Your eyes try to shut out the excruciating white lights. Was the room always this small? Was it always this hot?
Your mouth salivates, and your body instinctively stumbles back to the water counter, where you recall seeing a trash can next to it.
You tremble as the sour taste of bile finds its way to your throat and, ultimately, into the can. Tears streak your face as a hand on your shoulder leads you outside to the parking lot, where they direct you to sit on the curb.
After a few refreshing breaths, you look up at the stranger. He politely introduces himself, “I’m Xavier.”
“Leah. Hey, I’m so sorry for what just happened. That was…embarrassing, to say the least.” His round glasses remind you of Ana, but his skin is a much richer brown than hers.
“Don’t be. Happens to everyone.” Your skepticism must show because he sits beside you and asks, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
You remind yourself that he’s a stranger you just met, but you end up oversharing anyway. You explain that your best friend was trying to be helpful but only made you more nervous and self-conscious about a simple teeth cleaning.
He huffs, “It sounds like you need a new best friend.”
You gasp, “I didn’t mean to make her sound so terrible. She’s great.” Seeing his dubious expression, you go on, “I’m serious. I mean, I’ve known her forever. God, I live with her!”
“I just think if people go out of their way to make your life miserable, why wouldn’t you find friends that didn’t?
But what if no one else will be my friend? You don’t say the last part out loud.
“I guess I shouldn’t miss my appointment.” He stands, then reaches his hand down to hoist you up. Once you’re standing, you realize you’re about the same height.
You’re not sure what compels you, but you say, “If I were to leave, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go.”
“Here, let me see your phone,” logically, you shouldn’t hand him your phone, but against your best judgment, you do. Thankfully, he hands it back and tells you that he just added his number to your contacts.
Xavier gives you a little wave and says he hopes to hear from you soon as he walks back into the house/dentist. You decide to ditch your appointment and contemplate the conversation on the ten-minute walk back to your apartment. You conclude that Xavier is right; you need to leave your toxic friend situation, but relying on the kindness of a stranger isn’t your only option, right?
You press the code into the keypad to let yourself through the massive entrance gate, but instead of turning right and walking up the staircase to the third floor of the gray building as you usually do, you turn left. You can’t help but notice everything you love about this complex, from the mismatched gray and orange buildings to the unnaturally green grass. It’s winter in Austin and all the grass should be dead, yet life prevails here. Somehow, you find yourself outside door 202 of the orange building. You know this is a terrible idea, but that doesn’t stop you from knocking.
You hear footsteps approaching, and when she opens the door, you know there’s no going back now.
“Petra, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”
“I had a dentist appointment,” as if that’s an adequate excuse for taking the whole day off.
“Oh,” is all she says.
Her calling you Petra was not a blunder but a mantle you craved when you couldn’t tolerate Ana, or even your reality for any longer. Everything about Dizzy is ethereal. Her skin, body, and long red hair make her look more like a fictional princess than your neighbor.
“Dizzy, you know why I’m here.” The intensity in her stare makes you break her gaze and trace the snaking, black tattoos on her arms until you admit, “I don’t know what to do. I think I hate Ana.”
She steps closer to you, now standing entirely outside the door. With her this close, all you can think about is how you’ve wanted to be this close to Dizzy since she introduced herself when you moved to Forster Woods three years ago. She leans her lips toward you but veers away from your own before coming close to your ear instead, “Leave Leah at the door, dear. I much prefer Petra.”
That’s when you do it. You shed Leah like a coat as you push Dizzy back into her apartment. Your new form, Petra, grabs Dizzy’s shirt between your fists, bringing your lips together. You hope the taste of mint and strawberry lingers forever as you begrudgingly force yourself to pull away from her.
When Dizzy begins to rant about the two of you running away together to Rome, you can picture it. Why couldn’t you forget your disappointing world and join Dizzy’s? Feeling like you might bubble over, you force yourself to sit; you’re grateful her couch is much more practical than the ones at Chatterbox. Dizzy follows you, and your lips meet for the second time. This time, you sacrifice some passion to softly sink into her hair and the crevices of her body. If this is what drowning feels like, maybe it’s not such a terrible way to…
“Dizzy, why’d you leave the door open?”
Dizzy leaps from your grasp as Gus forces you to the less colorful surface.
Gus stops when he notices Dizzy isn’t alone on the couch. “Oh, what brings you here, Leah.”
Dizzy jumps up to hug her boyfriend before giving him a peck on the cheek.
Gus’s muscular stature always makes you nervous, and this time is no different. “Well, I should get going then.”
“You never said why you came over.”
Dizzy begins to speak, saving you from coming up with an answer, “Leah needed some cheering up.”
“She’s a grown woman, Dizzy. She doesn’t need to be comforted like a child,” Gus whispers, frustrated.
You recognize that the only person at fault here is you. It was ignorant to believe Petra existed or that Dizzy would ever abandon Gus for you. Wherever Dizzy goes, Gus is bound to follow, leaving you feeling like an even worse person than you did before you showed up at her door.
They continue to argue over your presence, and your self-loathing expels you from the apartment.
You don’t want to see Ana, so you walk directionless. Flowers in every shade bloom through bark mulch and concoct a sweet, woodsy scent that calms you as it drifts throughout the complex.
You finally decide to make a call after walking in a circle around the complex for nearly thirty minutes.
“Hello?” You’re surprised that he actually answers.
“This is Leah from the dentist.”
“Oh, what’s going on, Leah?”
“I’m done. I need to leave now.”
“Okay. Can I pick you up in an hour?”
Wiping away tears, you don’t hesitate to answer, “Yes, that’ll work.”
You waste no time, heading straight to your apartment. When you charge through the unlocked door, you see Ana moving around the kitchen while the TV acts as background noise instead of entertainment. A copious amount of adrenaline and purpose spur you to announce, “I’m moving out,” before she can speak.
You both stay frozen until you break the standstill by crossing through the living room to take cover in your bedroom. Not long after locking the door, Ana starts demanding an explanation from outside. You take this as an opportunity to pack.
You’re relieved when you finish loading your suitcase with essentials and don’t hear screaming or cursing anymore, only a faint murmur coming from the TV.
You risk peeking out the door to check for Ana. When the main area appears void of life, you grab your suitcase and make a last-ditch effort for the front door. You don’t make it.
Standing in the hallway is a tall and somber figure. “Devin, I didn’t know you were coming over.” Devin, Ana’s cousin, likes to overstay his welcome and sleep on the couch for a week, draining as much joy as he can from your life. While the size difference between the two cousins is colossal, they share the same tan skin and raven black hair.
“You look restless, and what’s with the suitcase?”
Unable to concoct a creative excuse for your state, you admit, “I’m moving out.”
His eyes move around the apartment as he walks past you to the main room, “This is a nice place, and with this economy, I doubt you’ll find anything better.”
He sounded like Ana, “Just need a change of scenery.”
He turns around, “I think we both know this has nothing to do with the scenery.”
His tone went from playful to severe in a heartbeat. You take a protective stance, crossing your arms, and refuse to follow him out of the hallway. “How do you know what this is about?”
“Leah Leah Leah. Don’t you ever learn,” he shakes his head. “You know how many times you’ve threatened to drop us?”
By “us,” you presume he refers to himself and Ana, but maybe Dizzy, and Gus as well.
“Why can’t you just accept that there is no you without us.”
You struggle to find words, let alone a solid argument, and yell, “Because you’re ruining my life!”
He continues, unfazed, “A little dramatic, don’t you think? You make it sound like we have you trapped here. What? You need a prince to come and rescue you?”
You notice that he’s slowly inched his way towards you. Only about two feet separates you now. “You’ve always had a choice. Admit it, as much as you hate us, you know we’re what you deserve!”
Those words hit you the hardest. It’s not sadness you feel but an emptiness. You finally comprehend that you’re stuck here as long as you’re you. Forever.
Devin sighs, “The Xaviers of the world will come and go, but your minor inconveniences are forever. If I were you, I’d learn to live with us.” He walks away, and you stand there numb.
You don’t know how he knew about Xavier, but some things aren’t worth questioning.
The sun is setting, but it’s eerily warm outside as you walk to the entrance gate. Not even Forster Woods’s peaceful, luxurious atmosphere crafted by the smell of sea salt wafting from the pool and the sound of jovial canines at the dog park could grant you respite.
Xavier can’t get in without the code, so instead, his car has pulled around the loop. He must see you approaching because he rolls down the window.
There’s a selfish part of you that wishes he could at least pretend to be a little disappointed that you don’t carry a bag or appear to have any intention of opening the gate.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter from the other side of the black, iron bars. You’ve done this part so many times, but those are the only words you can ever come up with.
His tone is earnest when he says, “I’m sorry that I can’t save you, but we both know that’s something you have to do yourself.” He rolls up the window, and you force yourself to watch the car drive away until the headlights no longer flood the street before returning home.
When you reach the front door, you hear your once quiet apartment bursting with life. Upon entering, you first see Ana’s lithe body sprawled out on the couch, her excitement at your arrival is palpable. Then your attention turns to the banner on the wall above her head, that reads, Welcome Home! The cruel joke worsens when you notice Dizzy hanging on Gus near the kitchen counter. Her lips upturn slightly in what appears to be a smile. Someone must’ve asked you to join the party, or maybe you told everyone, “I’m going to bed,” completely unprompted.
When you finally get to your bedroom, hand gripping the door knob, you catch Devin out of the corner of your eye, pouring himself a drink in the kitchen. When he looks up to meet your eyes, he winks.
You slam your door shut behind you and sink your back against it. You’ve been here too many times to count, and you know sleep won’t come when the loud conversations outside will force you to relive your miserable day until the next morning. It’s either that or fall asleep, only to have the voices follow you into your dreams.
But tonight, in the endless tunnel of noise, you can still hear something Devin said: Xaviers come and go. That thought alone gives you all the hope you need to keep hanging on because, who knows, maybe someday, you’ll finally go too.