Free AD-versaries by Jake Ainsworth Page A

turned to leave.  A knot formed in his stomach as he realized what had just happened.  She knew.  He had no idea what Sammy had done to delay her, but she knew it was him behind it all.  His worst fear had happened and he had lost the one girl who had the best chance at making him happy.  She knew. 
     

 
    17
    Victoria hadn’t slept at all that night.  She cried until there were no more tears, then cried some more after that.  Things always seemed bleakest at night, but the cloud of dismay that hung over her showed no signs of dissipating with the morning light.  When she had returned home the previous evening, after walking the fifteen miles back to her apartment, she took the longest shower of her life.  Initially, she refused to cry over this latest let-down from the latest in a string of losers she let herself get involved with.  The shower masked the tears so she allowed it there. 
     
    For reasons she never quite understood, emotions seemed to lead to hunger, or at least disguised itself as hunger.  So she sat on her couch and ate an entire stuffed crust pizza while watching The Road to Zanzibar with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope.  The comic duo was always good for a laugh.  She chased her pizza down with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and then lumbered off to bed, her belly full and her emotions satiated; for now at least. 
     
    But sleep never came.  The tears started as a mere inconvenience, showing up one at a time only to be quickly wiped away so that any people watching from the other side of dreamland wouldn’t be ashamed at her show of weakness.  They came faster, faster, until there was not enough time to wipe one away before another appeared.  Eventually, she gave in to the sorrow and a torrent of tears rained down from her eyes, dampening the landscape of her pillow. 
     
    Although she didn’t sleep, she didn’t want to get out of bed either.  Nothing could distract her from the betrayal she felt, so she hoped that by giving in to her emotions they would pass from her and she could move on with life as usual. 
     
    The next morning brought with it no respite from the pain.  She tried to get motivated, but didn’t have the energy or the will.  She threw on wrinkled clothes, ran a brush through her hair and left the apartment without so much as a glance in the direction of a mirror.  She had no need for make-up or perfume for there was no one to look good or smell pleasant for.  The stairs proved to be too daunting for her that morning, so she took the elevator. 
     
    The only real surprise that the morning brought was that her keys were duct taped to the top of her car.  She appreciated the gesture, but as she removed the keys, the duct tape left a sticky mess on the roof that wouldn’t be removed.  Try as she might, it seemed the only way to remove it would be to strip off the paint and start again from a primer coat.  Now, aside from the emotional pain, she would forever have the memory of that betrayal stuck to her car.  No good would come from that day. 
     
    Whatever ever mood usually hung around an empty ad agency darkened as Victoria walked into the office.  Mr. Richter never worked on Fridays and Sarah always stopped off to get them a “Yay it’s Friday” cup of coffee before coming in.  The empty office seemed to mock her in her solitude and grief. 
     
    “Holy crap, what happened to you?”
     
    Victoria had not even seen Sarah come in.  She began to speak, but nothing came out.  She tried again but sounded more like a mouse snagged by the tail by a vicious tabby than a person.  The third try brought more squeaks and the squeaks brought tears.  Sarah rushed across the office and hugged her blubbering friend.
     
    “Oh, Sweetheart.  Whatever it is, it’ll be ok.”
     
    But Victoria didn’t look up from their embrace.  She just continued her unorthodox display of grief.  As she finally lifted her head, Sarah tried to not draw attention to the rather