Page 59 of Keeping It Professional

“Are you sure? Your friends are all here.”

I was being rude, I knew, and selfish to boot. But if Miles came up one more time, or work, saving lives, I might just scream or burst into tears. I had to get out of here, or I’d fall apart.

“You should take Miles’s plate,” said Mom. “Coming off a double shift, he’s going to be starving.”

I took the plate meekly, in its wrapping of foil, and walked back up the street and stowed it in my fridge. Then I slid down to the kitchen floor and sat with my legs stretched out, watching my phone. I texted Miles again,

Hey. You missed dinner.

Just letting you know so you won’t, like, show up.

You know, if you thought the party went late.

Anyway, text me.

I added, then deleted, a heart emoji. I’d already texted him six times in a row. I stared at my screen till the checkmarks popped up, sent and received. My phone rang in my hand.

“Miles?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

My heart took off racing. My stomach knotted up. He was fine, alive. Talking. I laughed with relief. But where had he been all night? And my texts, why no answers? Why wasn’t he talking now, just breathing thickly?

I swallowed. “You still there?”

“Yeah, about tonight…” Another long pause. I tugged a thread on my skirt. It bunched up my hem, unstitching the seam. Miles cleared his throat. “Look, I’ve asked for a transfer.”

My hands turned cold. I dropped my spoiled hem. “What do you mean?”

“To another unit. We can’t work together, so?—”

“What?Why?”

He made the same sound my mom made when I was being frustrating, sort of a harsh puff through puckered lips. “You know why,” he said.

“I really don’t.”

“We let things get personal. We… This is wrong.” I heard a door close, then a soft thump. “We can talk if you want, but what would that help? I’d say things, you’d say things, and we’d both just get hurt. Let’s leave it here, with me out of your hair. You won’t have to see me, or?—”

“You’re leavingme!”

Miles made that sound again. “Because one of us has to.”

“But why? Tell me why. You owe me that much.”

Miles didn’t say anything and breathed down the phone. I held my breath waiting. Preparing to fight. But I wasn’t sure if Iwanted to fight for us, or if I wanted to fight against him. Make him feel what I felt, the hurt. The betrayal. The yawning abandonment, hollow in my chest.

“You’ll get it one day,” he said, and hung up. I didn’t get it at first, why the line had gone dead.

“Miles?Miles!”

My phone beeped, three little pips. I flung it with all my strength at the dishwasher. It bounced off and slid back to me, still flashing CALL ENDED. Ended. He’d ended us. All that we were. Because… because…I’d get it one day!?

I snatched up my phone again and wound up to throw it, but breaking my phone wouldn’t mend me and Miles. I dropped it back in my purse and dropped my head in my hands, and hunched there stunned, too pissed to cry. He must’ve known for days he was going to transfer. Days I’d kept going like we were still on. He’d stood me up at my party, in front of my friends. Stood me up at work too, becausebecause.

Because one of us has to.

Because,screw you.

---