Between shoveling in bites of food, I shoot Jody a text.
Me: Coming by to hang. See you in an hour?
The three dots move and then stop. I chase the sweet goodness down with a gulp of Sprite. Finally, Jody responds.
Jody: You stole my boots, Abby.
I shift in my seat and the boots in question squeak on the linoleum floor.
Me: Borrowed. Didn’t think you would care.
Jody: Maybe you should have asked first. We’re not those kinds of friends.
My chest tightens. What does that even mean?
Me: So that’s a no to hanging out?
Jody: Drop my boots off. I’m busy.
Tears prickle in my eyes and I let out a bark of annoyed laughter. Stupid pregnancy hormones.
Me: Fine. I’ll bring them by. How’s your boyfriend?
It’s a bitch thing to ask. I just want her to feel bad like how she just made me feel. Now she’ll obsess over what that question means.
Jody: He’s fine. Why?
Me: Tell him I said hi.
Her boyfriend is a dick and not even cute, but I feel better knowing this will piss her off.
“Want some pie?” the waitress asks. “We have a fabulous brownie a-la-mode drizzled in hot caramel sauce and topped offwith bits of toffee, a huge scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, and a maraschino cherry. What do you say?”
“You had me at brownie,” I say with a real smile. “Thank you.”
While she scurries off to put the order in, I text another friend.
Me: You home? I can bring some pie, and we can watch a movie.
Then I can conveniently fall asleep there “on accident.”
Daniel: Going out tonight with a new woman I met.
Me: After?
Daniel: Unless you want to finally show me your pussy and are up for a threesome, no. I’m looking to get laid, A. You like to sleep over but won’t let me touch you. You’re just a cocktease.
And here I thought we were friends.
Fuckface.
Me: I hope you get chlamydia.
The waitress brings me my dessert, and I damn near lick the plate clean. I hope this little baby is happy. I’m not sure I can promise when the next good meal will come.
I fish out my dad’s card and slap it onto the bill once the waitress delivers it. She disappears with the ticket and the card. It takes her an unusually long time, but eventually she returns.
“Sorry, hon, but it’s not working.”
