The New Leaf Project

Juniper Rose Stewart

My life was like a bad country song. One minute everything was great. The next, my boyfriend dumped me (he said I was too boring for him), I lost my job (laid-off because I wasn’t ‘essential’), my ex-roommates decided not to renew our lease (or, they decided to renew, without me), and then I got a call from Mom, expecting she was going to try to talk me into coming home (honey, this Boston-experiment isn’t going well for you) but no, it was to tell me that my childhood dog, Oreo, had died. Which would have been the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back - but then my car, my trusty Honda Civic died spectacularly on 93 when I was trying to get home.

Thank god for JJ or I would be sleeping on a sidewalk, still trying to push my junked car off the side of the road.

I could still hear the shouts of the drivers and the honking. It definitely earned a spot on my 'top ten' most embarrassing moments of my life… so far anyway.

So Now, here I am at Peak’s Pub, with a fresh green notebook in my hand and a brand new unicorn pen (super childish but I’m struggling here, and the thing writes fantastically) rewriting the rules for my life.

The old June would have gone home with her tail between her legs and let Mom and Dad dry my tears and set me straight. But the new June was busy turning over a new leaf. No more quietly accepting my fate. No more being a doormat for jerks. No more hiding behind Mom and Dad. The only way out of this mess was through it, and I was determined to change.

And that’s how The New Leaf Project began.

JJ slid into the booth next to me, pushing a cocktail toward me. Benny waved at me from his position behind the bar and gave me a wink. JJ or Jennifer Jaques was my very best friend in the whole wide world. She had been in and out of my life on occasion but we had always stayed in contact. It was because of her that I had the courage to strike out on my own in Boston in the first place. It was because of her sister, Molly moving out that I wasn’t homeless on a street corner somewhere and crying my eyes out. She always knew what to say to snap me out of it.

“I like it.” JJ said as she took a sip of the mystery drinks that Benny had made us.

“The drink or the plan?” I asked taking a sip of my own drink, a highball, clear with limes suspended in the ice. It wasn’t overly sweet (which I preferred) and reminded me of a Lime Rickey but with the addition of Gin. Tasty.

“Both.” JJ smiled pointing at the notebook. “I especially like this line” She pointed to the rule I had added to the list that said:

Listen to Jenny (JJ)

I had also listed a bunch of things I was determined to try. Nothing illegal or immoral, just, things outside my comfort zone like:

Rock Climbing

Learn to dance

Go out to eat alone

Try something new

They were just ideas, but I was determined to get out there and LIVE. I’d spent so much time making myself smaller to fit into what everyone expected of me - and all it got me was exactly nothing. And while some people might lie down and give up - I was choosing to look at this explosion of my life as the reset button I needed to build the kind of life I wanted - and that started by figuring out exactly what that meant. So I was going to try as many things as it took to figure it out.

JJ grabbed the pen from my hand and started adding her own ideas to the list. I let her, after all, one of the rules was ‘Listen to Jenny’.

Ask out a Stranger

Speed Dating

Find a job that isn’t Marketing

“Jenny,” I said after she finished writing. “I went to college for marketing.”

“And you hate it.” she smiles and taps the pen on the notebook “I’m surprised that’s what has you in a twist and not the other two.”

I shrug, “I said I wanted to be brave, and get outside my comfort zone.” It’s not like I had to do both of those things right away… I could build up to them.

JJ got that familiar look on her face, the one that said she was onto me while also being mischievous - a sign that meant I was not going to like what was going to come out of her mouth next.

“No time like the present baby girl.” She spun in her seat to survey the bar. At this hour there weren’t many people yet. It was early afternoon, which meant most of the guys here were probably like me, unemployed losers.

“What are we doing here?” Benny had appeared from behind the bar to drop a bowl of Chex Mix on our table. One of the great things about Peak’s Pub was they were always rotating out the free bar snacks, chips, popcorn, peanuts, and today, Chex Mix.

Jenny smiled at Benny and slid the notebook so he could see. “Finding a target for June.” She tapped the list where she had written ‘Ask out a Stranger’.

My stomach turned over as Benny turned to survey the bar with a nod of his head. “Well, I can tell you to avoid the leather jackets in the corner - I’m pretty sure those two are in a gang.” He then proceeded to point out every other guy in the bar and give them a label “Gay. Sleeps around (not in a good way). Messy Divorce. Can’t keep a job.” he shakes his head and turns to Jenny “You might be better off waiting till later Chica.”

And that’s when he walked in, pausing to glare at everyone in the bar before he stomped over to a stool and sat. If he was in a cartoon, I would picture a giant thundercloud pouring rain down on his head. He was nice to look at, though, if you could get past the scowl. Dark artfully tousled hair, piercing blue eyes, and lightly tanned skin that said he probably spent time outside, which matched his chiseled frame. He was like a very angry male model. Way out of my league on every level and probably an asshole to boot. But I knew from Benny and JJ’s faces that I was screwed.

“No way,” I said immediately.

“It’s all how you look at it, honey.” Benny said easily, “You just gotta be less attached to the outcome. Just walk over there like the bad bitch you are and ask him out - and if he’s a dick, I’ll put the wrong liquor in whatever he orders, and you can cuss him out.” He gives me a wink, “But that’s my cue, ladies.” Benny floats across the bar in his usual way all smiles as he gets the angry hot guy a drink.

I sigh and update the rules for the New Leaf Project:

Be less attached to the outcome

Benny was right, and he’d shared good advice, even if I felt like I might have swallowed some kind of angry wasps who were trying to murder my stomach. JJ nudges my shoulder before she moves to the booth opposite me.

“You’ve got this. Just walk over there and introduce yourself. Heck, I’ll cross it off for you even if you don’t ask him out. Just go over there and talk to the guy and see what happens.”

I waffle, sipping my drink and eyeing my target. He’s got what looks like a double shot of whiskey in his hand that he’s glaring at like it’s somehow personally wronged him. “He looks pissed.” I hedge.

JJ shrugs “Even better. If he’s having a bad day, a cute girl will make him feel better.”

I blink and look at my reflection in the window. I’m just wearing jeans and a sweater, little booties, and a puffy vest. I’m like the embodiment of a basic white chick in the fall, the only thing missing is a pumpkin-spiced latte and a boho bag. Meanwhile, our guy over there is in a tailored suit that is probably worth more than my Honda was before it died, though he’s leaned back in his chair to loosen his tie, his anger game still strong even as he’s clearly trying to relax.

He’s so far out of my league it isn’t even funny.

Still, I wonder what makes such a beautiful and clearly well-put-together man so furious. Did he lose his job? Is his car a smoldering ruin on the side of 93 like mine? Maybe his dog died too? Perhaps I have more in common with him than I think. But I’ll never know if I don’t go over there and find out.

“There you go.” JJ smiles at my determined expression, her green eyes lighting up.

I take a deep breath. “How do I look?”

JJ brushes a few stray strands of hair behind my ears and gives me a thumbs-up. I toss my braid behind my back and square my shoulders. My empty glass in my hand (the perfect excuse to walk up to Benny at the bar) and my heart in my throat. The murder hornets in my stomach lurch as I stand up and walk to the bar.

I give myself a pep talk the whole way up to the bar, which is really only a few feet but feels like miles. 'Okay, Juney you got this. Just act natural. Don’t trip. Don’t spill the dregs of your drink on the floor or the guy. Smile but not too wide; you don’t want to look deranged.' The bar is still mostly empty, though a few more patrons are starting to funnel in. It’s a Friday afternoon so it will get busy pretty quickly once 4 pm hits. Benny’s at the other end of the bar, which means that I’m both relieved I won’t have more of an audience and apprehensive that I don’t have backup.

I’m so wrapped up in not looking like an idiot (suddenly, I’ve forgotten how to walk, and I really need to focus on it for some reason), that I forget that I need to have something to say to him when I finally do reach the bar. He’s so focused on murdering his whiskey with his glare that he doesn’t even notice I’ve approached him - that or he just really doesn’t want to be bothered.

I open my mouth, and nothing comes out. So I set my glass on the bar and then take a deep breath, turn to face him because, I figure I have to for him to realize I’m speaking to him, and say “HI”

Hi. Just Hi. Nothing else comes out after the first word falls out of my mouth. And, of course, it’s squeaky and annoying - my voice is high-pitched with nerves and gushy like I’m a thirteen-year-old with a crush.

And then I add an awkward wave on top of it when he shifts in his chair and raises an eyebrow at me like I’m something that he stepped in - like he’s not sure yet if I’m talking to him or I’m talking to someone else - he’s giving me an out - and me, being the glutton for punishment I am, keep it going with that stupid wave. I just barely stop myself from slapping my forehead like the dork I am.

And he just stares at me; the thundercloud I’ve pictured over his head is rolling in his eyes; he’s definitely still pissed and probably an asshole, but he doesn’t growl at me, exactly. A half smile joins his raised eyebrow, and he shakes his head and turns back to his whiskey.

And suddenly, I’m transported back to the day I was fired. The dismissive way my boss acted after he told me I was laid off. The same raised eyebrow and smirky asshole half smile on his face as he delivered the news that I was out of a job - and that my feelings on it weren’t even worth his notice.

This guy can fuck all the way off if he thinks he can just dismiss me. I’m Juniper Rose Stewart, and I am nobody’s doormat.

Not anymore.