working in these dead-end jobs.”
“That’s a very judgemental thing to say,” Afric interjected loudly, drawing Annabelle’s attention.
Annabelle shook her head. “I disagree. I’m being honest. If more people were honest, the world would be a far better place.”
Afric was already shaking her head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I livestream to thousands of people daily.” I could tell from the way she spoke that she was drunk, and I wondered if I should intervene.
Annabelle scoffed. “Sure, you do.”
“I do! It’s my job. I’m a gamer. Ask Neil.”
“It’s true,” I said before reaching out to touch Afric’s arm. “Perhaps I should get you a glass of water.”
“No water! I’m trying to make a point.” She jerked away, turning her attention back to Annabelle. “There’s no lack of honesty out there, believe me, especially not online. I deal with the brutally honest opinions of people in the comments section every single day. If anything, people are far too honest.”
“She’s not wrong,” Leanne agreed. “I came to a point where I had to stop reading the comments. They were messing with my head.”
“Exactly,” Afric exclaimed. “That kind of critical honesty can be helpful in small doses, but when it’s a constant onslaught, your mental health suffers. And about the other thing, not everybody gets joy out of being ambitious. Some people find happiness in the familiar. Take my older sister, Helen, as an example. She suffers from anxiety, but the way she manages it and lives a fulfilling life is through routine. She’s always lived at home with my parents, hates travelling, has slept in the same room her entire life, but she’s happy. She’s a homebird. Our parents are her best friends, and they adore her company. Some people might see her situation and feel sorry for her, but that’s just because they’re judging her by their own desires and ambitions. I always aspired to live in a big, diverse city like London, but I don’t judge the people who still live in the town where they grew up. Just because you live in one place doesn’t mean exciting things don’t happen. It doesn’t mean that you don’t still have stories to tell and things to talk about. I think if we all accepted that it’s fine to want to live a big, flashy life just as much as it’s fine to live a small, quiet one, then that’s what would make the world a better place.”
I stared at Afric, my affection for her expanding exponentially. She defended the underdog, and I was certain that was the reason she’d wanted to help me with my predicament in the first place. It was what drove her to pursue a friendship with me at a time when I’d been far from friendly. I wanted to say so many things to her at that moment, but I couldn’t with our current audience.
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one,” Annabelle said. “I’m sorry, but I refuse to believe your sister can be truly happy still living at home with her parents.”
Afric stared at her, and I tensed, worrying she might say something insulting, but then she simply stood and stated, “I need to pee.”
“I’ll go with you,” Leanne said and followed her from the booth.
Afric
“Okay, you have to tell me what’s going on with Neil,” Leanne said as we entered the bathroom. “I seriously can’t understand what he sees in Annabelle. She’s completely unlikeable.”
My chest filled with that feeling of vindication you get when someone doesn’t like the same person as you. “Thank you!” I exclaimed. Admittedly, I was very tipsy as I rambled, “And who insists on everyone calling them Annabelle? Surely, any decent person would at least shorten it to Anna or Belle. But no, she wants everyone to wrap their tongue around all three syllables. Who does she think she is? A heroine from a Jane Austen novel or something?”
Leanne chuckled as she walked into an empty stall and closed the door. I entered the one next to hers. “I can’t argue with you there. But seriously, you clearly know something I don’t. I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Leanne went on, still talking while she did her business.
I stared at the navy stall door in front of me. “What way do I look at her?”
“Kind of like you want to tear her perfect, glossy red hair out.”
I cackled loudly. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do every time she starts talking.”
“Is it because