Page 8 of Aftershock

She’s funny. Of course, she is.

I raised my eyebrows at her. “I just thought asking a celebrity to take a picture in a bathroom after an earthquake wasn’t the best idea.”

“As long as you don’t climb the stalls while I’m peeing, then I don’t mind,” she shrugged.

I let out a small laugh as I took in the fact that I was actually having a conversation with Lexi Harlow.

“You think we will be in here for long?”

“Why? Are you going to wait until I have to inevitably go pee so that you can ask me for another photo?”

“No,” I tried to suppress a grin while rolling my eyes. “I was just wondering how long I have to make you want to become best friends with me.”

“Well, you’re off to a good start,” she smiled back. “Minus the candid photo. You get negative points for that.”

“Well, fuck, I guess I have to make it up to you.”

“You sound like you have something in mind.”

“Well, I am a minor celebrity myself, so if you want to, you can totally take a photo of me while we’re in here,” I joked.

She scoffed. “Oh, yeah? What are you famous for, then?”

“I beat the world record for most times trapped in a bathroom with a celebrity, duh.”

“Lame! Negative points.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed as I slapped my hand against my chest. “No, I’m just fucking with you. There's no way someone like you would want to be friends with someone like me, anyway.”

I didn’t know I was going to say the last part until the words were already spilling out of my mouth. It was true, though. I couldn’t expect to be a good friend to someone when I could barely be a good friend to myself. I knew I wasn’t the nicest or most thoughtful person, despite my best efforts, but no matter how hard I tried, I always seemed to fail. Sometimes the idea of making friends seemed too daunting, and other times it just seemed pointless.

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Well, I’m only 5’3, so it’s too late for that,” I countered in a joking manner.

She smiled and crossed her arms in front of her chest while narrowing her eyes at me. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Maybe,” I teased, enjoying our witty banter. “You know what this reminds me of?”

“Being locked in a bathroom with a random stranger after an earthquake? Honestly, I have no idea what that would remind you of,” she chuckled.

“It reminds me of that one episode of Friends where Chandler is stuck in an ATM vestibule with Jill Goodacre and makes a complete fool of himself,” I smiled. She stared at me with a slightly puzzled look on her face. “Have you never seen Friends?”

“Some episodes,” she shrugged. “I’m not a huge ‘Friends’ fan.” She paused, then wiggled her eyebrows and added, “I'm more into this singer named Lexi Harlow.”

“You need to work on your jokes,” I snorted.

“Your humor has gotten worse throughout this conversation, so I don’t think you're one to talk.”

“Oh, you’re criticizing my humor? Also, I never claimed to be so funny that you’d pee your pants while dying of laughter.” I shrugged, then continued. “And speaking of peeing your pants, just be happy I already used the bathroom earlier, or else when I saw you, I would have actually peed my pants.”

She belted out a heavy cackle. “Now that’s a picture I would’ve liked.”

“Fine, then I’m going to wait until you have to pee and climb the stalls for a picture.”

“Wow. That’s low,” she shook her head.

“No actually those stalls are pretty high.”

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