Friday is, to put it mildly, a shitty day, especially since I’m functioning on a scant two hours of sleep, and the weekend isn’t great, either. Both Saturday and Sunday, I don’t force myself out of bed until ten. Last weekend, I got up late, too, but that was because Taylor and I were wrapped around each other.
How much has changed.
The next week is even shittier, and I look forward to another weekend…alone. A whole weekend alone doesn’t usually bother me; I’m perfectly content to be by myself, but now, the solitude is unbearable.
Still, I don’t text anyone to see if they’re free. Instead, I pour my heart out to Lucifer.
“How could I have been so stupid?” I moan. “I’m more heartbroken than I was last February. The fake relationship just made everything worse.”
Lucifer looks desperate to escape his tank and swim away from me.
After lunch on Saturday, I’m craving bubble tea. I head to the nearby plaza, but as soon as I step inside, I realize my error. The last time I came here, I was with Taylor, and the first time I told a lie about my “boyfriend,” I was also here.
And, like both those days, Vin is behind the counter.
“The usual?” he asks.
“Uh, no.” I don’t know why, but I feel the need to throw caution to the wind. “I’ll have the honeydew milk tea with jellies.”
Vin raises his eyebrow but gets to work on my drink.
A few minutes later, I poke my straw into the top of my drink and am suddenly filled with regret. I’d forgotten that I actually hate honeydew, and that’s the reason I haven’t had it in years.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
And this morning, I tried to watch a C-Drama, but all the male characters had long hair and it made me think of Taylor. I had to shut off the TV and howl in frustration.
Yep, life is kicking me while I’m down, because of course it is.
I head back to my building, and I’m by the front door, digging my keys out of my pocket, when someone says, “Helen!”
I somehow manage to drop my keys but not my bubble tea.
It’s Esther.
“I tried calling so you could buzz me in,” she says, “but you didn’t answer.”
I check my phone before picking up my keys. Yep, there’s a missed call and some texts.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Well, you weren’t saying anything in the group chat. Nothing about your weekend out of town, nothing about Valentine’s Day. Nor did you reply to my texts. So I was worried, especially after I found the article—I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about that.”
I open the door. “As you can see, I’m doing just great now.”
“What the hell are you drinking?”
“Honeydew milk tea.” Even though I don’t like it, I’m still drinking it because throwing it out would be a waste and my conscience won’t let me.
“I thought you hated honeydew.”
Ugh, why does she remember that when I didn’t?
True, I’ve known Esther for a long time. Not as long as I’ve known Taylor, but over ten years. Back in undergrad, I used to tease her for having a chemistry name. Esters are chemical compounds, you see.
We ride the elevator up to my floor. In my apartment, she slips off her shoes and takes a seat on the couch.
“So, tell me what’s up,” she says.
