Startled by the change of topic, I gave a shake of my head. "What picture?"
"You know which picture."
Oh.Thatpicture. Heat flooded my face, and I couldn't help but glance away.
Just before I'd crawled into the bathtub, Jake had texted me that stupid image, the one of me walking along the street in those wet, embarrassingly obscene clothes. Accompanying the image had been three simple words.Remember your promise.
It was the promise to look that photo, obviously. But I didn't want to look. I wanted to forget. Unfortunately, Jake wasn't helping.
This whole thing was starting to feel like a punishment. I crossed my arms and said, "You know what I'm starting to feel like?"
Jake looked down at me, but said nothing.
Into his silence, I said, "I'm starting to feel like a dog who peed on the carpet."
His voice was flat. "A dog?"
"Yeah. And it's like you're dragging me back there, saying, 'Look at it. Bad dog! Bad!'"
With an effort, I softened my tone. "Look, I know it was a mistake, but you don't have to keep rubbing my nose in it. So can't we just drop it already?" I gave him a pleading look. "Please?"
"You told me you'd look, so just do it, alright?" He glanced toward the elevator. "Now, I've gotta go."
I made a sound of frustration. "That's no kind of response."
"Yeah? Well until you look, it's all you're getting." And with that, he turned away.
I watched in sullen silence as he crossed the short distance to the elevator, hit the down button, waited, and strode inside after the elevator doors opened. The doors slid shut, and then, he was gone.
I stared at those doors, wondering what had just happened.
I was still staring when my phone started buzzing again. With a muttered curse, I pulled it out and looked at the thing. Another unknown number.
Well, this was just great.
