Haze - By Andrea Wolfe Page 0,59

girl and I hate myself for doing this and it's only been like two hours."

"Effie, you've got to calm down. No decision is ever easy." He smiled. "The alcohol is making it worse—I guarantee it. And Jack's probably doing work, not sleeping around. You told him it was a break, not a break-up. That implies it will resume."

He was right, of course. It was just a series of stupid coincidences, one after another until my threshold was exceeded and I withered away to nothing. "Yeah." I buried my head in my hands and sighed.

"Do you need anything? Food? Water?"

"A glass of water would be nice."

Jesse nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard him getting out a glass from the cupboard and running the sink.

"I got you ice cream in the bag! I hope it didn't all melt."

He returned and handed me the glass. In his other hand was the ice cream bag and two spoons. "I noticed that. Phish Food, huh? My favorite."

I started laughing uncontrollably. I don't know where the giggles came from, but they had arrived with a vengeance and I stopped caring.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I don't know. Give me one of those spoons." I took a big gulp of the water and set it down on the table next to the couch. He tossed me the utensil and I missed. It landed on my lap.

"Nice catch," Jesse said. He ripped the plastic and the top off the ice cream and took a bite. "God, this is so good. It never gets old."

I tore into mine as well and filled my mouth with sweet, sugary bliss. It was exactly what I needed and calmed me damn near instantly. "People should eat ice cream instead of taking anti-depressants," I said.

"I think you're right."

We ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying every bite as much as the one that came before it. I had forgotten the world, forgotten my troubles, let them go as if they were things that just didn't matter anymore, diurnal distractions that were fading away into the night.

Jesse interrupted the silence, his voice full of concern. "Hey, Effie, you said something about an old man. What the hell were you talking about?"

I started laughing again and told him the story.

"Oh, that was Bill! He's a nice guy. I didn't know that about him."

"Have you ever talked to him?"

"Just greetings and goodbyes." A look of fascination broke out on his face. "Shit, I don't know if I could start over again like that. Props to him for having the guts."

"Is being alone better?" I asked.

Jesse paused and then looked at me quizzically. "I don't think there's any good reason for either of us to be talking like this."

Even before he finished his sentence, I was already on a new subject. "Oh yeah, and Sam was outside in the street too!"

"Sam? What was he doing there?"

"Meeting someone at a restaurant. He looked surprised to see me. I bet he got caught in the storm too. He deserved it after being mean to me."

Jesse raised an eyebrow curiously. "That's weird. Wouldn't have expected to hear that on top of everything else that went down tonight. You probably packed more excitement into ten minutes that most people have in years."

"I guess I did," I admitted quietly.

***

Jesse actually stayed out in the living room with me most of the night, probably fully aware that I didn't want to be left alone. He didn't have to do it, nor did I ask it of him. I couldn't even express how much it meant to me, and so tonight, I wouldn't even try.

"I'm going to head off to bed," Jesse finally said. I knew it was coming eventually, so I had braced myself for it. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks so much." It was all I had.

"I owed it to you for the ice cream. Don't beat yourself up too much."

"I won't," I said. "I'll beat myself up just the right amount."

He smiled. "Goodnight, Effie."

After he left, I realized I had been sitting in my wet clothes the whole evening. I shut off the TV and then took a hot shower, thoroughly appreciating the cleansing stream of water. I felt good again, but I was worried that it would be a different story when I tried to fall asleep.

After the shower, I tossed my clothes in the hamper and got into bed. I checked my phone for the first time since I had been caught in the storm: five missed calls

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