May:Are you sure you don’t want me to come over? I have no problem lending you my tit as a pillow.
Me:Wow. That is so thoughtful?
Me:But I’m good. Thank you though.
May:I got your back, boo.
May:Let me know if you need me to shank someone.
Tessa:Do you want me to come over tomorrow morning? I can pick up coffee and be there by eight!
Me:You really are the sweetest, but honestly, I think I just want to be alone.
Me:Look at that progress!
Tessa:If you change your mind you can text me anytime. I can be there in 15 minutes.
Me:Thank you, friend.
Corey:Did you already stock up on booze? I’ve got plenty of champs here and I can totally swing by the market and pick up some OJ!
Corey:Day drinking but keep it classy!
Corey:I also make really good bloody marys.
Me:Lol. Already ahead of you and have my classy day-drinking supplies on standby.
Me:... But I may take a rain check on the bloody mary.
Corey:Hell yeah! Anytime!
—
It’s close tomidnight and my phone has been silent for over an hour when it chirps again. I groan, tempted to turn it on Do Not Disturb and ignore it for the next century, butI don’t want to worry my friends. At least, not any more than they already are.
I punch in my passcode, expecting to see more words of encouragement/threats of violence toward Natasha from May, but the text isn’t from her.
Seth:Did you see the final articles are going live tomorrow morning?
I sit up in my bed, shoving aside in the blanket cocoon I’ve built. We haven’t talked since the night of the party. I may or may not have been stalking his social media the last few days to see if there was any hint of a relocation on the horizon, but he hasn’t posted anything. And since I’ve been avoiding the office, there haven’t been any chance run-ins. This single stupid text message feels like a lifeline, an olive branch. I don’t want to fuck it up.
Me:Yeah, Natasha told me.
Me:Did you write a final piece? I kind of thought after your bottom-of-the-ninth walk-off you might have opted out of the assignment.
Seth:Considered it. But I do enjoy this thing called getting paid.
Me:It does come in handy.
Neither of us says anything for a few minutes. I wonder if he’s staring at his phone screen like I am, willing it to beep, or if he has more patience than I do. I think I’ve kept it prettylight and breezy and haven’t said anything to scare him off. But maybe he’s said all he needs to say.
Finally, I get a notification.
Seth:I look forward to reading your article tomorrow.
Me:Yeah. Same.
Me:I mean, I look forward to reading yours.
