Page 10 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

The street outside the bar glows with the yellow wash of streetlights, cars sliding past in steady lines while people laugh and argue and move around us like the city is one big restless organism.

“Do you want pizza?” Rachel asks.

“I already bought dinner,” I mumble.

“What happened to it?”

“I wasn’t hungry anymore.”

Rachel kisses the side of my head. “It’s gonna be okay, Athena. Maybe not today or in a few weeks, even. But the guy was an asshole and we kept telling you he’d let you down. You’re actually free, and you’ll see that soon.”

“It’s not just him,” I whisper, and my throat feels scratchy. “It’s Lila too.”

Rachel falls quiet. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “That was a real bummer.”

They herd me into a rideshare like two very patient sheepdogs, and I spend most of the ride staring out the window while the city blurs past in streaks of red brake lights and glowing storefronts.

My brain keeps replaying the scene from the apartment—the bed, the sheets, Nathan’s voice.

If you maintained yourself.

The words dig in deeper each time they repeat. Maya nudges my shoulder gently. “Hey.”

“I’m okay,” I say automatically.

“You don’t look okay.”

“That’s because I’m drunk.”

“That’s also because you just caught your boyfriend in bed with your best friend.”

“Former boyfriend,” Rachel corrects from the front seat.

“Former best friend,” I add.

Maya squeezes my hand.

“We’re proud of you for throwing them out.”

“I threw a shoe,” I mumble.

“Symbolic.”

The car stops in front of my building ten minutes later, and they escort me upstairs like an exhausted celebrity being smuggled past paparazzi.

The apartment still smells faintly like Thai food. I glance down the hallway toward the bedroom and immediately decide that I will not be going in there tonight.

“Couch,” I announce.

“Excellent choice,” Rachel says.

They fuss over me for a few minutes, which mostly involves forcing me to drink water and removing my shoes before I fall over.

“You text us if you need anything,” Maya says.

“I will.”

“Even if it’s three in the morning.”