Page 45 of Perilous

“Awful!” Molly cries out.

“Did you fuck those guys?”

Molly swallows hard. “Annika, are you mad at me? I’ve been worried sick. I’ve been…”

Her chin quivers. I reach across the table and smile at her. I touch her left hand.

“I sort of just vanished, didn’t I?” I ask.

“Yes. You said you were going to the bathroom and then…”

“When did you realize something was wrong? Don’t lie either.”

Molly looks down. “I’m not a good friend, Annika.”

“Maybe I’m not the good friend.”

She lifts her gaze. “What do you mean?”

“I left and never told you,” I say.

“You… left…” Molly blinks fast and wipes the corners of her eyes. “What happened? Annika, your father has been calling me like crazy. At first, I lied. Just in case. You know? But then…”

“Wait. My father is actually looking for me?”

“Yes! He’s scared out of his mind! The last time I talked to him he made a comment about you being murdered.”

“Murdered,” I whisper.

“Yes! This isn’t like you. You know that.”

I gently nod. “I was celebrating. Doing my own thing, I guess.”

“What does that mean?”

“Molly, is this my hoodie? Did you not smell the hoodie?”

It takes her a second or two.

“Wait a second,” she says. “All of this is because of a guy?”

“Maybe I was just following your lead, Molly. Isn’t that what you always do? Find a guy and just go for it? Why can’t I do that? I was out celebrating. It was supposed to be about me. Right?”

“That’s fair,” she whispers. “I just… you never… and then you…”

“What?” I ask with attitude.

“You never fuck around like that! You vanished into thin air. And I didn’t know because I was too busy with those two guys. They turned out to be roommates and that was theirscam. The sex was okay.” She shakes her head. “Sorry, this isn’t about me. I didn’t know you were gone. And then I’ve been having horrible nightmares. What kind of person am I? What kind of friend am I?”

Still all about you, Molly.

“Anything else?” I ask.

“Yes. I want to know everything. What happened? It’s been days. You look… I don’t even known. You look tired yet rested. You look like you need a shower, yet you seem fine. You look like you’ve been fucked…” Molly leans against the table and almost spills her coffee. “You have been fucked. I know yourfucked face. The face you make after you’ve had sex. It’s like you want everyone to know.”

I take the lid off my coffee and blow on the warm, roasted smelling, caffeinated heaven and then sip it. I sigh with relief.

“Molly, I met you to let you know I’m alive and well,” I say. “That’s about it.”

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