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“Friendship. Take it or leave it,” I say.
He clenches his jaw. “Leave it.”
“Like I knew you would.” The Uber pulls up. I get in and slam the door.
Nathan stands on the sidewalk, his face is murderous, and he glares at me as the car pulls out into the traffic.
I’m not even joking. Nathan Mercer really is an asshole.
* * *
Sleep: the wonder drug. I wish they sold it in bottles.
I walk down the sidewalk and smile. I’m feeling weirdly relaxed today.
I don’t feel regret. I don’t feel anxious at all about Nathan’s and my fight last night.
I feel in control. I feel like myself. Liberated, even.
Being a bitch is empowering.
I’ve been to the gym this morning. I did my last grocery shop, and now I’ve just bought another two cheap suitcases to take my extra things home.
I walk into my building and take the elevator to my floor. My phone pings with a message in my handbag. It’s probably the girls about tonight. I have my farewell dinner tonight at a restaurant, and I’m looking forward to it.
The elevator doors open. I wheel the empty suitcases down to my apartment and dump them next to my door. I take out my phone to see the text. It’s from Nathan.
Okay, fine.
Friends.
I twist my lips to stop myself from smiling. I reply.
Thank you.
Another text bounces in.
Can we have lunch?
I roll my eyes. Great. I throw my phone onto the couch and don’t reply. I flick the kettle on. Another text bounces in.
Friends eat lunches together,
you know?
I narrow my eyes. What will I reply with? I put my phone down again. God, he’s going to play on the friend’s thing now, isn’t he?
Another text bounces in.
This is your last chance to have lunch with an ostrich before he flies out this afternoon.
I smile at his ostrich analogy. Okay, he’s going home. There’s no chance of me giving in, and he gets it.
I text back.
Fine.
Where do you want to meet?
