“Oh, I’m sorry, AJ.” I said, muttering through an entirely hypothetical conversation as I hauled my things off the porch of a residence I no longer lived in. “I can’t afford to give you gas money to your job interview. As it turns out, the fucking UNSEELIE FAE KING was too busy cementing their ass indent in Arkady’s couch to drop off MY PROPERTY THEY TOOK to the middle of downtown so I had to pay for a BLOODY Saturday night Uber.”
I had fallen for Asher. I’m hyper-romantic– me falling for a date isn’t so much of an occasion as it is an eventuality. The feelings were mutual, which was a plus, because people who were in love with me were likely to listen to me talk for long periods of time.
“Yeah, I decided that it may be time for you to go home when you suddenly seemed way too fascinated with the owner’s description of the air duct system,” Cotton told me. “He was telling us how he had to install some new vents and you were like ‘Wow! Are you kidding me?'”
“I don’t even remember anything about the air duct system,” I laughed. “No, I’ve just had a really stressful couple of weeks. See, after [April] and I broke up, I joined Tinder.”
I glanced to the front of the van. I could see March scrolling through his phone with his right hand and the steering wheel in the left. I texted my love within our group chat of Zara, Asra, Tony, and Arkady. “[March] is texting while driving. If I don’t make it out of this, remember me in my last moments. Reclining on a chaise lounge in the back of a Uhaul, riding this out Wilde style.”
But I may remain ignorant of the cause forever, and I may just have to accept that.
But then my brain would win and we can’t have that, can we?
Maybe they were right. Maybe I never had enough reason to believe about half of my friends actually existed within their own bodies and had their own social security numbers. Except… “But you slept with Aberle? You told me you met him? In person?”