Bitterness and Bathroom Sinks

Sitting across from my mother, I silently watched as she ate. Her nose in her phone, the fork in her hand picking up the food in front of her repetitively. Scroll, eat, scroll, eat, scroll, eat. I had asked her a question moments ago, repeated it even with exasperation in my voice. Yet still, no response. It was like she was deaf. I contemplated throwing a fork at her to get her attention.

“Mom.” 

“Hm. What?” Her response came, her eyes still unable to leave her screen. The reflection of whatever shitty Facebook post that had captured her attention gleaming in the lens of her readers. 

“I asked you a question.” I told her, my tone short as I tried to express in the nicest way possible that she had been totally ignoring me. 

“Okay? What?” She answered back, her tone giving away just how little she really cared about what I had to say. 

“Nevermind.”

And with that, she was back to her scrolling. My food was getting cold in front of me, I had pushed it around a few times but my appetite was gone. Pulling my own phone out and ready to join my mom in her endless scrolling, my attention was taken by loud laughter. Laughter that echoed throughout the tiny diner we sat in. My first instinct was to be angry at the intrusive noise but I knew that I was just frustrated. Mad at the world. Jealous. It felt like I hadn’t laughed in so long. I wasn’t sure why it hurt so badly to hear someone else laugh, as if it was an affront to me personally. But that was the ugly thing about jealousy. Envy. It rooted itself in and did what it wanted to do without regard to logic or reason. It was something I always found myself struggling with. 

Looking up to the noise that had startled me out of my thoughts, I saw a beautiful young girl and her equally beautiful mother. They were smiling, happy, dressed to the nines. I looked down to my own clothes. Some old hoodie and jeans. I looked at my mother, the same t-shirt she wore everyday because she couldn’t afford to buy herself anything nice. Or at least that’s what she always said to me. More jealousy began to flood me at that moment. When the mother pulled her daughter into a hug and sat down with her at their table near ours, instantly jumping into pleasant, eager conversation, I had to excuse myself to the restroom. Shitty pop music played over the crackling bathroom speakers, some songs I knew the lyrics to against my will. I made my way to the mirrors, taking a glance over my appearance. I was half expecting to find my skin a tint of green, a nasty look on my face that screamed just how envious I felt. Instead, I just saw sadness. The sudden realization came to me that that jealousy was not just me wanting something someone else had but rather me grieving what I knew I would never have. I’d never have a mother who loved me like that. A mother that would do anything to make me smile, able to put her issues aside to make sure her daughter got the best life possible. As far as I knew, she was pouring vodka in her diet coke before I got back to the table. I could feel the tears brimming now, hot and angry. Blinking them away was hard but I refused to cry. I was so tired of crying. I hated how my mind went to these things, how jealousy warped my reasoning and made me see the world from such a negative perspective. But it felt truly involuntary, like I was born to be moody.

My thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door swinging open, the girl from earlier passing right by me and into the stall behind where I stood. She had no idea. No idea that she was the catalyst for my current state, not that I wished her to know. There was another reason for me to be jealous, her total unawareness. In that moment, I hated this nameless girl. I truly hated her. Hated her for being beautiful and happy. 

When she reemerged from the stall, I was suddenly filled with guilt for my thoughts. How could I hate her? I didn’t even know her. I had no idea what she’d been through or even a fraction of who she was. We locked eyes for a split moment in the mirror and I decided to give her a nice, polite smile despite my urge to grimace and run out of the bathroom. The one she returned was toothy and beautiful, the kind of smile I just knew made men drop like flies around her. Again, I felt the familiar pang of jealousy. Dropping my eyes, I busied myself with washing my hands, afraid of looking like a freak who was just staring at herself in the mirror. 

“I love your hoodie.” She spoke, her sweet voice cutting through the sound of the running water hitting the porcelain sinks and our hands.

I was startled out of my own hand washing at her voice, not expecting her to speak to me at all. Looking up at her, I was probably evidently shocked. She liked my hoodie? Now that I was truly facing her, I really began to take her appearance in. She had dark hair that seemed to fall effortlessly in place, some stray pieces framing her tan skin. Green eyes that seemed to shine like stars in contrast to her dark hair and wardrobe. I felt starstruck suddenly by her beauty, almost unable to respond to her statement with how lost I became in taking her in. I realized that my hands were dripping water onto the floor.

“Oh, thanks…” I replied, cursing myself for my shyness. I broke eye contact, nervously searching for anything to look at but her. I resorted to grabbing a paper towel from the rickety machine, the loud noise of the manual crank reverberating throughout the bathroom. Though, I found it difficult to tear my eyes away for too long and soon found myself looking once more into her eyes. Again, she flashed me that smile. 

“I really like, you know, your whole thing you have going on.” I added suddenly, a nervous laugh leaving me at the end of the sentence, my hands waving up and down her figure to emphasize what I meant. It felt silly once it came out of my mouth and I almost regretted it before I saw that smile of hers brighten impossibly further. 

“I’m Willow, by the way.” She told me, her eyes crinkling at the sides from her big smile. 

“I’m Evelyn.” I replied in turn, almost hypnotized by her full attention. Those feelings of jealousy were long from my mind now and I was too focused on struggling to not make a fool out of myself any more than I already had. Too focused on the butterflies in my stomach that felt like they were climbing up my throat, trying to escape.

“Sorry if this is weird, I promise I try not to pick up girls in diner bathrooms all too frequently but… do you think I could get your number?”

The words hardly registered in my mind, leaving me totally unable to comprehend and fully trust that I had heard her correctly. I surely was gaping, unable to hide the utter shock and confusion on my face. Was she fucking with me? No, I knew that she wasn’t once I saw her face clearly again. Even in the dim lighting of the bathroom and the repetitive music droning on in the background, I could see in her face she was serious. The uncomfortable face of someone who wasn’t sure if they just crossed a line or not, if they were being strange. 

“You want my number?” I asked her incredulously, unable to mask just how shocked I was. That beautiful, bright smile she wore dropped, instantly leaving me feeling like I was now shrouded in darkness. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be-”

“No! No, not like that!” I blurted out far too quickly and far too loud, pulling my phone out of my pocket. With slightly shaking hands I unlocked the home screen, navigating myself over to my contacts. With the click of a button, the screen to add a new number appeared and I eagerly handed it over to her. That smile I had become so attached to in such a short time returned and the nerves rushing through my body halted again. She happily tapped away at the screen, adding her name and number. 

“My mom’s probably wondering where I am. But text me, okay?” She asked, already making her way to the door. Unable to say much, I nodded and returned a smile. But this smile wasn’t forced or polite, it was real. A real grin that I couldn’t shake, not even as I walked back to my table and sat in front of my mom again. She didn’t notice how long I was gone but I didn’t care. Looking down at my phone, I pulled up the contact information she had entered.  

willow<3