Page 11 of Shared Spaces

After my not-so relieving shower, I dig out my laptop and start to plan out what I need to do next in order to finally get this app out there. I’ve worked too hard to let this ship sink.

I swear that I’ve been staring at the same damn page for over a half hour now. I can’t focus on a single thing. Just as I’m about to close my laptop, I hear a knock.

I head over to the door and open it to a rather large box sitting in front of me. My guess is that it’s the espresso machine.

This is perfect. She’s not home, and I can use coffee as a bribery.

I don’t want this surprise party, and she’s not getting this until she promises not to go through with her plans, whatever they may be.

I walk into the living room, grab a stack of sticky notes and a pen then head back to the espresso machine. In simple words, I specify that she is not to open anything until I get back, and stick the note to the box.

I’ve always been the type of person that likes to know what’s going to happen next. I thrive on routine and making sure I’m where I need to be, on time.

A surprise party is the exact opposite.

Gwen is stubborn though. If she wants to make this happen—she will.

Reaching for my bag on the floor, I head down to the parking garage and off to my first round of classes for the afternoon.

Speaking of which, I have one class with Jenn’s husband, Sawyer this afternoon. I should ask him what’s up between the girls’. Gwen seemed unusually upset when she got the text from her, and of course she wouldn’t tell me why.

Sawyer and I don’t talk, aside from the odd ‘partner assignments’ and he never brings up Gwen, or anything personal for that matter.

He’s actually rather quiet with everybody. I don’t know anything about the guy though, so maybe he’s just always like that.

When I walk into the classroom, I spot where Sawyer is sitting and head over to him, taking the seat right beside him.

“Afternoon.” I say, reaching into my bag for my laptop.

“Hey.” Sawyer says, keeping his focus on the notebook in front of him.

I have no idea how people write notes by hand, it drives me absolutely insane.

“Question for you…what’s with the text Jenn sent to Gwen? She seemed a little upset.” I ask, wasting no time to find out before the professor get pissed off and calls out for us to all pay attention.

“Um—shouldn’t you ask Gwen?” He replies snidely. I’m really not liking his tone much already.

“Yeah, I already did…I’m just concerned, that’s all.” I say, hoping to persuade him into telling me, since I’m being so kind and all. Fucker.

“Jenn hates what she does, man. The thing you two have going on is less than normal—don’t you see that?” He whispers angrily, loud enough for the row of students below us to hear.

“I don’t see how anything we do privately is anybody’s business.” I say, starting to feel my blood pressure spike.

I honestly didn’t expect him to be such a prick.

“She made it our business when she told us about it. We’re entitled to our opinions too, ya know?” He groans, placing his pen to his paper.

“Literally nobody asked you for your opinion. I don’t recall our decisions as grown ass adults being based around someone’s ‘opinion’” I say, making quotations with my fingers.

“Jenn was fine with it until she heard that you paid for everything, and that you still are.” He says, tapping his pencil against his notebook like he’s irritated by me or something.

“Again, I don’t see how that’s anybody’s business. I’m making sure she has the chance to live out her dreams. Everything is consensual, and believe it or not, I respect her fucking boundaries, which is more than you and Jenn can say,” I huff, standing to my feet and heading toward the door to leave.

Fuck this.

I can’t be in the same room right now with someone who speaks so ill of Gwen.

I couldn’t care less what their views are.

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