She laughs. A little cute snort even escapes out of her mouth. “He thinksyouwould know where to get drugs?”
“Why are you asking it like that?” Of course I don’t. I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for drugs, but why does that mean she gets to think she’s superior than me for my lack of knowledge.
“I know you, Jane. You wouldn’t know where to buy drugs.” She rolls her chair into my cubicle and purses her lips.
Ugh. I hope that makes her get pre-mature wrinkles. “Oh, and you do?” I fold my arms across my chest waiting for my closest friend to enlighten me on her non-existent drug habit.
“Yes. I do. Everyone does. Everyone but you.”
“Right, uh huh.” I grab the coffee that’s been sitting on my desk and sip at its room-temperature contents and pretend it’s delicious.
She sighs. “Why don’t you go ask your boyfriend how many times he and I have shared a joint on the rooftop?”
I must be blinking stupidly at her.
She smiles wickedly at me like her sole purpose in life is to make me feel insecure about everything I think or do.
The effect is devasting.
So devastating that I immediately purge myself of all curiosity with a caramel latte-fueled inquiry on all my social media accounts as to the yays or nays of everyone’s recreational drug use.
Dex meets me in the coffee shop. I’m sitting at a table flipping from one social media platform to another, cringing with how many people partake in illegal substances.
“You okay? What’s wrong? You just stomped out of there like Julia lit your pants on—”
“Do you get high with Julia on the rooftop?” I demand over the rim of my disposable cup. My coffee tastes off, kind of like a mixture between black pepper and burnt toast. They must need to clean the latte machines.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Um…” He is literally thinking about it. “Once, about three years ago maybe.” He tilts his head and smiles his stupid sexy smile. “Why in the world are you asking me that?”
“Do you think I’m a Plain Jane?”
He rubs at the back of his neck. “What did she say to you this time?”
“Who?” I play stupid.
“Don’t play stupid. You know who.”
“Ugh. She’s always calling me a Plain Jane.” I put my coffee down a little too hard on the table and it sloshes out through the little opening and over my hand. “The cock star was texting me. Repeatedly. His Highness would like me to bring him home—” I lean forward to whisper yell the next part, “Drugs!”
Dex leans over to the next table and pulls at a few napkins to hand to me.
“She said I was a Plain Jane and wouldn’t know where to buy drugs,” I say, patting my hand dry.
“Well, do you know where to buy drugs?” Ugh. Sometimes he says things that remind me of a time I loathed him.
“That’s not the point,” I say. “I smoked weed in college.” Once, and it did absolutely nothing but make me eat two family-sized bags of salt and vinegar potato chips until my mouth felt numb.
“Look,” he smooths his hands over mine, which are pretty sticky, but kudos to him for not pointing that out. “Julia just left on some last-minute fieldwork.” He looks at his watch and smiles. “It’s almost noon. You know she won’t be coming back to the office any time today.”
“She said you and her shared a few joints on the rooftop and I should ask you how many times.” I lean forward and narrow my eyes at him. “She wasinsinuatingthings about the two of you.” I say it as a tease, but when the words come out, I realize it’s something I do think about: how Dex liked Julia before he liked me.
“Well, you know for a fact that’s all bullshit,” he says, looking past me to the small pastry display. “She never gave me the time of day.”
That’s not what I wanted to hear.
Dex pushes himself away from the table and walks over to the bakery section all while my soul is screaming out for his undivided attention. It’s equal parts infuriating and disappointing. There’s a sharp twinge in my side. Instead of making me feel better and dragging me out of my emotional black hole of self-doubt, he’s ordering a chocolate-fucking-chip muffin.Does he know nothing of women?
It’s fine. I drink the rest of my coffee without even tasting it and tap open all my polls and questions. Most peopledo notuse recreational drugs, only 13% do.Smoke on that, Julia.
