Me vs. Me by Sarah Mlynowski Read Free Book Online

hangers?”
    â€œI don’t have too many extras.”
    Come on. “One? Two? I’ll buy my own tomorrow.”
    She sighs and retreats into her bright orange room (which looks bigger than mine from this angle), and returns a few minutes later with three metal hangers, the kind you get at the dry cleaners. “I’ll need these back ASAP.”
    I guess we won’t be sharing shoes just yet.
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    â€œSo what’s your story?” she asks over our Caesar salads. We’re at a table by the window looking onto Lexington. Every time the door opens, a burst of cold air blows through my clothes.
    â€œWhich one?”
    â€œMen-wise.”
    This is one story I don’t feel like rehashing. “Had a boyfriend. Now I don’t.”
    Her eyes gleam. “So you’re single.”
    Single. I haven’t been single in years. The word feels foreign in my head, like another language. “I suppose so.”
    â€œGood. I could desperately use a new single friend. All my girls have sold their souls. It’s the worst. Their men are their goddamn appendages. Tell me, why can’t a wife have dinner with her friends one night a week? Will her husband starve?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Cam was actually pretty good about letting me have my own space. Although who knows if that would have changed if we lived together.
    â€œWell, I do. Women let men control their lives. They don’t know how to create boundaries. ” She draws a square in the air with her index finger. “They don’t know how to keep their own individuality. At least we’ll have each other. At least you didn’t bail. You wouldn’t believe the freaks I met trying to sublet this place. I wish I could keep the whole apartment on my own, but I’d be broke by Christmas. Leigh moving out totally screwed me, you know. What a bitch.”
    If Leigh was a bitch, what does that make Heather? Our server arrives with our raviolis, and I shove a forkful into my mouth in case I’m suddenly tempted to answer my question out loud.
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    After dinner, I’m in my bedroom, staring at the apartments across the street, my sheets covering my makeshift bed (aka the couch cushions). It’s already eleven, but I doubt I’ll be able to doze off anytime soon.
    First of all, it’s only nine my time. Second, I’m terrified of closing my eyes. I’ve been in denial all day, but I can’t ignore that every time I go to sleep, I seem to end up in an alternate reality. And since that isn’t possible, I must just be having weird dreams, right?
    Maybe tonight I’ll dream about something normal, like failing a test in high school.
    What if I wake up back in Arizona?
    No. No, no, no. Must think positively. It won’t happen again! I will wake up in New York! I will…I will…I will…
    My eyelids feel heavy. Yes, that’s what’s going to happen. I will wake up in New York. I will wake up back in New York. I will…
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    Blinding pain. Light.
    â€œThis week in sports…”
    There’s a fire in my head! I blink twice and open my eyes. Shit.
    â€œMorning, gorgeous,” Cam says. He’s sitting up in bed, shirtless, watching TV. “You must be zonked. It’s already ten.”
    I try not to cry. I am going mad. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I tell the difference between dreaming and real life? Why is my brain playing tricks on me? I pull the covers back over my head.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œNightmare,” I say.
    â€œAbout what?”
    About what, indeed. “A fire.” My brain is on fire.
    â€œNo fires here,” he promises.
    I stay hidden until Cam eventually leaves to make us breakfast. “Omelet?” he asks from the kitchen. “Cheese and onion?”
    â€œâ€™Kay,” I answer. I am not coming out. I am temporarily crazy, so I will remain here until it passes. Like the flu.
    My