He just shrugged and smiled. “Sure.” But right
before he said it, he looked at me.
Sarah finally let go of my arm to add his
Venmo. Suddenly, I felt a sense of relief. “Take
your time,” I said, and walked back inside
without looking back.
Sarah pulled back my bed curtain. “Amy, you’re
not mad, are you?” she asked. “I mean, you’re
<
not Ethan’s girlfriend or anything.”
She was right. I had no right to be mad.
“Do you like Ethan?” I asked directly.
“Um,” she hesitated, avoiding my eyes. “Not
really. We just happened to be there tonight.”
“Why aren’t you eating the chowder?” she
asked, pointing to the container I’d left on my
desk. Her tone was slightly accusatory. “We got
it especially for you.”
“Not hungry.” I tried to close the curtain, but
she held it open. “Amy, did you know Ethan has
a group chat with his friends?”
I paused. I didn’t.
“Riley’s in that group too.” Sarah showed me a
screenshot on her phone. I recognized Ethan’s
profile picture instantly. It was from the week
he had the flu, the week I took care of him.
After he recovered, I caught his cold and ended
up bedridden with aches and pains. I’d texted
him, asking if he could bring me some soup. He
never replied. Instead, he forwarded our entire
conversation to his group chat. The screen was
filled with my messages.
Ethan: “Look at this lovesick puppy.”
Ethan: “She’s annoying the hell out of me.”
Ethan: “Does she actually think she’s my
girlfriend?”
The group’s responses were brutal.
