Page 61 of The Drop

We both turn to each other in horror. It’s Sasha.

“I travel down with your mom and dad, who, by the way, would not get off my back! ‘Sasha, what are your plans fornext year? What about summer at our lake house? Would you transfer to be closer to Gunnar?” she continues to yell into the phone as we watch her through the balcony slats, wide-eyed.

“Gunnar has a lake house,” I whisper, and Cami presses a finger to my lips. “You’re right; sorry,” I mumble.

“Your ratchet college friends hijacked our nice dinner with your parents; I mean, seriously, Gunnar, does she even like me? Why would I hang out with that skanky figure skater and her homeless friend?”

I recoil and look at Cami, who looks just as hurt as I am. “Let’s go inside,” Cami whispers, and I nod, not wanting to hear anymore either. Following her, we hear Sasha’s last blow as we move to shut the door.

“You can call them and tell them not to come. I’m serious, Gunnar. I’m not coming unless you call them.”

We slide the door shut and sit in front of each other, silent for a second.

“He won’t listen to her,” I whisper, grabbing Cami’s hand and making her look at me. “He’s our friend, and she’s being a jealous girlfriend.”

“You’re right.” She nods back at me, presses her lips together, and we both get up off the floor. “I’ll get us an Uber.”

She picks up her phone but immediately shoves it at me as it rings suddenly, and I stare as Gunnar’s name lights it up.

“No way.” I look up and see the tears in her eyes. She kicks off her heels and walks over to the sofa and slumps down on it, and I sit on her other side, declining the call.

“Fuck him.” I threw her phone on the coffee table in front of us. “No one treats us like that.”

I stand and pick up my phone by the door, fire off a text to Grant, saying Cami and I don’t feel well and are staying in, but to apologise for Mr and Mrs C.

“How many bottles of wine have we got?” Cami asks, sniffling, looking over at her, pulling a blanket over herself. Tears prick my eyes. I can’t stand to see my friend like this.

“A few; Adam has been buying us a bottle for every bottle of tequila he finds.” I shrug, heading to the fridge and grabbing a bottle.

“He’s a good man.” She says as I bring it over with glasses, but she grabs the bottle and just drinks straight from it.

Oh boy.

Three hours later,

We have only moved to get more wine and a pint of ice cream that’s melting between us as we cry at The Notebook.

“Noah’s a good man,” Cami cries around her spoonful of Ben Jerry’s cookie dough. “He reads to her.”

“And she remembers,” I finish, wiping my eyes, and we grab each other’s hands.

We both jump as there’s a bang against our door and something that sounds like someone saying, “Ouch, fuck.”

I get up, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of the dress I’m still wearing, which is now all wrinkled, and look through the peephole before opening the door.

“Oh,” Adam recoils in horror while standing next to Grant. “Wow, are you contagious? I don’t want that.”

“Shut up, idiot” Grant elbows him as he steps forward holding a tray, and I move to let him in. “Why was your door locked?”

“Predators,” Cami and I both say at the same time as I join her on the sofa, and she lays her head on my shoulder.

“Oh-kay.” I can tell Grant wants to say more, but places the tray in front of us. “Brought you dessert from the restaurant.”

We both look at each other and tear up.

“You’re a good man,” I say, grabbing the tray, opening it, and immediately hit with the smell of chocolate; we both moan.

“It was Adam’s idea, but I picked it.” Grant rubs the back of his neck. “Are you okay?”

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