I have sex with him. It only takes him six minutes to finish, and I only know because my eyes constantly slide to the alarm clock, waiting for it to be over.
After Garrett leaves within the next hour to go to work, I curl up in my bed again and sleep for two hours. When I wake up, there are three missed calls from Faye and two text messages. I release a breath, sitting up and pressing a hand to my head. Before checking the messages, I wonder why Faye would call so many times and realize there’s only one explanation: She needs my help.
I trudge to the bathroom, brush my teeth, give my locs a rosewater and peppermint oil spritz refresh, and then call her back as I pick at some of my leftover cinnamon roll on the table.
“Um, hi. Why didn’t you pick up the phone the first time I called?” she demands as soon as she answers.
“Don’t I get a hello? Or how was your boat trip event thingy?” I ask, laughing.
“Oh, I’m sorry. How was your boat trip thingy, Willow?”
“It sucked donkey balls, thanks for asking.”
“That’s wonderful!” Faye shouts, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “No, I really do care about your event thingy, Willow, I really do, and you can tell me all about it very soon, but um…I have a huge issue.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“Tonight is supposed to be the open mic at Lit and Latte’s, but one of my employees called out, said she has a stomach bug. I could really use another hand, and you know I wouldn’t ask you unless I really needed the help.”
“Aw, Faye.” I sigh then walk to my closet, shuffling through the clothes on the hangers. “Of course, I’ll be there.”
“Thank you soooo much, Willow! I owe you!”
“I planned on eating a burger and fries while binging episodes of Bob’s Burgers, so yeah, you definitely owe me.”
“Damn. That sounds amazing,” she croons, as if longing for the same kind of mindless evening.
I laugh.
“Anyway, the open mic starts at seven. Please don’t be late.”
