Page 34 of Hate You, Maybe

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No way.

Me

Way.

Bridger

How did you finagle sharing a cabin with her?

Me

There was no finagling. Just a glitch with room assignments. But we’re stuck now. So I’m making the best of it. My goal is to prove to her I’m not that bad a guy. I might even be making progress.

Bridger

Good luck with that. I get the feeling Loren’s rooting for you, too, although she’d never admit that out loud. She’s sitting next to me now. She says hi.

Me

Ah. The lovely Ms. Cane. Is she reading your texts over your shoulder or something?

Bridger

Of course not. I just told her I was texting with you so she’d know why I have my phone out during this new, extremely riveting meeting.

Me

But you’re sitting together … The plot thickens.

Bridger

Nope. The plot’s thin as always over here.

Me

Ah. So you haven’t convinced her to ditch her man yet?

Bridger

Loren and I are still just friends. And she’s still engaged.

Me

Sorry, man. What kind of name is Foster Abel anyway? If she hyphenates after the wedding, she’ll be Mrs. Cane-Abel. That’s a choice.

Bridger

Dude. Subject change. Aren’t you supposed to be doing something productive and retreat-oriented right now? Like a trust fall or a mime class?

Me

Mime class. But you’re right. I’d better go. We’re supposed to meet up for a tour of the place in a couple minutes, then lunch, then a whole afternoon of professional development stuff. Minus the mimes. Hopefully. I’ll bet Sayla’s already there talking to the directors, trying to show them she’s better than me.

Bridger

Thoughts and prayers, buddy.

Me

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