And thinking right now isdefinitelydangerous.
Before I can spiral, my phone buzzes again.
Lily: I’m coming to get you.Be there in 10.
Then—
Lily: Okay, maybe 5
I shoot up from the couch like my ass is on fire.Shit.Shit.Shit.
Five minutes?Five minutes is no time at all.That’s barely enough time to reapply lip balm, much less emotionally prepare for whatever thefuckI’m doing.
I start pacing.Then I stop.Then I sit.Then I stand again because sitting feelswrong.
I could still bail.Ishouldbail.Lily would get over it.
Yeah, I could text her back.Tell her I have food poisoning.Or an emergency.Or that I spontaneously combusted.
But before I can think up a solid excuse, I hear a car horn outside.
Shiiiiiiiit.
What am Idoing?
I don’t chase.
I don’t put my heart on the line.
I don’t let myself hope for things that aren’t guaranteed.
And yet, I’m currently sprinting around my apartment like a gremlin trying to get ready for battle.
What does one even wear to a moment of self-inflicted emotional ruin?Something hot?No, that’s trying too hard.Something casual?No, that’snottrying hard enough.Something mysterious and aloof?
Oh my god, what does that even mean?
I throw on a top.Take it off.Throw on another one.Repeat the process three more times until my bed looks like a crime scene of indecision.
Lily honks outside again.
Oh god.Oh god, this is happening.
I grab my jacket.Forget my jacket.Go back for my jacket.Nearly trip over my own feet.
Jesus Christ, pull it together, Anna.
By the time I finally make it outside, my pulse is pounding in my ears, and I’m gripping my phone like it might save me from impending doom.Maybe I should have written a will before this.Or at least made a power-of-attorney decision.
I yank open the car door, throwing myself into the passenger seat like I’m evading enemy fire.
“No comments.No analyzing,” I say the second I close the door.
Lily barely holds back ashit-eatinggrin.“No promises.”
I give her alook.
She holds up her hands like she’s been falsely accused.“What?I didn’tsayanything.”