Continued from Part 2...“I can’t wait for you to meet my husband,” the Friend said.
“I can’t wait to see your house,” I said.
“I want to see your apartment,” she said.
“Whenever you want,” I said.
“Let’s go now,” she said, grabbing her coat and walking out to the street.
I followed. We’d paid the original bartender for our drinks. I wasn’t sure if that included the most recent ones, but my doubt wasn’t a match for her eagerness.
“You really have beach chairs for a couch?” she asked, laughing.
“It’s like college,” I said, not embarrassed, allowing her enthusiasm to overtake the misery of my living room. I really wanted legitimate furniture but it was going to take some time.
“And you definitely have alcohol?” she asked, as if we needed more.
“Beer for sure,” I said.
“We’re really going to be friends now,” she said, holding me tight.
“Yes,” I said, warmed by her black puffy coat and bright smile.
Inside, I instructed her to sit. I opened two Sam Adams Lights.
“This is all I have,” I said, apologizing, passing a bottle to her.
“It’s fine,” she said. She was sitting on the beach chair with the sleeping bag as padding. It was surprisingly comfortable, I knew.
I laughed to myself as I entered the bathroom. It was tiny, but clean, a perk of living alone.
When I came out my Friend asked, “You live here?”
I sat in the beach chair next to hers and laughed, looking at the unpacked boxes, the piles of papers and magazines, the many Maxims because I was trying to write a story for them, the empty walls, the plastic container as coffee table. “Pretty nice, huh?” I said, with sarcasm I assumed was matching hers. “This Monday it will be one month.”
I thought about that for a second, how much my life had changed, was always changing.
She stood up and walked out the front door.
The Facebook Breakup, Part 4 will be released on Tuesday.
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