Page 51 of Absolute Certainty
Willa nodded and pressed her phone to her ear. Sahar turned back to her game, only for a daft move from a midfielder to force her into a state of further irritation until she heard Willa confirm and hang up.Good. Something exciting.
“We got it,” Willa exclaimed. “I’m making tea. You want some?”
Sahar propped up a thumb. She could hear Willa turn on the kettle and skip back into her room. A defender intercepted her goal and she nearly howled, stomping her socked feet down onto the floorboard. “Oh come on, you fucking twat!”
She hollered another rush of curse words out, then threw the controller down beside her. “Fine, universe, I get it. Today’s not my day,” she sneered aloud.
Switching over toThe Golden Girlswas now the guaranteed stress-free solution.
Once the show was on, Sahar treaded toward the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared inside at its contents.
Eyes frozen, she must’ve been standing in front of the fridge longer than she realized because Willa had returned to the kitchen and was talking to her.
“Huh?” Sahar uttered.
“I asked if you lost something in there.”
Sighing, she closed the fridge. “My sanity, apparently.” And then, she remembered what she’d wanted, opening it back up to fetch the bowl of yellow cherries she’d left inside the night before.
She placed them on the countertop between her and Willa, popped one into her mouth, and opened the rubbish bin to spit the pit inside.
Willa didn’t say anything about her sanity comment, and Sahar was partly—very—glad. Sheneededto snap out of this bizarre headspace—focus her mind elsewhere.
Absentmindedly, she glanced down at her phone in her other hand, notingthe date. That was when it clicked that Willa’s birthday was on Wednesday. “Wills, shit, your birthday is coming up! Any plans since your parents had to postpone their trip to the end of August?”
Willa made a face, reminding Sahar how much she hated talking about her birthday. “Nope. And I told Ethan the same thing. He’s not allowed to do anything after taking me to the treehouse onhisbirthday.”
Sahar guffawed. Oh, delusion. It was adorable on Willa. “And we all know he’s not going to listen to you, but go on.”
“He better,” Willa countered.
“Let the man shower you with all the affection and gifts. You deserve it, Wills. You’ve spent too many birthdays alone. And then, afterward, you should let us girls take you out to brunch.”
Willa shook her head. “Nope,” she repeated.
Sahar discarded another cherry pit with its stem. “Please, Wills, I’m sad and have confusing feelings. Let’s shift the attention onto you.”
Willa’s brows furrowed. “Sahar, that’s so evil. How dare you make me feel bad?”
“Because you’re the best flatmate and friend anyone could ever ask for, and I want to celebrate you. I also know you hate seeing me sad, and I know you know that not celebratingyouwould make me sad.”
Affectionately, Willa rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Only because seeing you sad makes me contemplate homicide, and I currently love my life a bit too much to go to prison.”
“Finally, a win,” Sahar screeched. “I’ll text the usual girl group?”
Willa nodded, stepping in front of the tea kettle as it signaled its boiled status with a pop. “Okay, but only brunch. Casual.” She took out two red polka-dotted mugs and placed them on their countertop.
“I got you, babe.”
Prepping the text, her thoughts harassed her again. Sahar knew that at some point, Willa was going to have to move in with Ethan. It was only a matter of when. They were already closer than she’d ever been with her exes, and Sahar knew that would be the next best step. She wanted that for them. She cared about their relationship so much that the milestones mattered to her, too.
Still, a microscopic part of her was already a little sad because while Sahar knew she’d never lose Willa’s friendship no matter where she lived, losing her as a flatmate was going to be one of the harder changes to get used to.
The realization made her more grateful that she could soak up these little moments they had before that time came. The fact that Willa was so adamant about spending the day with Sahar simply because her headspace was wonky was proof that she’d never find another friend like her.
Her eyes flicked to the TV—a scene featuring late-night cheesecake shared at a kitchen table—prompting her to look back at Willa. “Wills, when we’re in our seventies and retired, can we ditch our husbands and move in together again?”
Willa snorted a laugh. “One hundred percent. Yes. But we need to find two other people to move in with us, so we can fully embrace our Golden Girls era.”
