“Ugh. You sure you wanna be a lawyer? You’d be a great shrink.” I shove more pop-tart in my mouth and hear Ivy sigh.
“I’ve definitely been to enough therapy,” she trails off, and we’re quiet for a minute. Me chewing my pop-tart and her drinking her coffee.
My mind flits back to Cheap Seats. “I bet she’s perfectly symmetrical,” I muse out loud.
“Who?”
“Talia.”
“Hmmm. Didn’t you say people with symmetrical faces were boring to look at?”
“Yeah, but I just said that because Jesse wouldn’t shut the hell up about his near-perfect facial structure, and I was going to barf if I had to see him Vogue one more time.”
Ivy and I both laugh, and it feels good. It’s a reminder that even though some shit might not be where I wish it was, I’m still in a good place. I’m not sinking. I’m still afloat. And that’s something.
“So,” Ivy says after a minute. “You really doused them with beer, huh?”
“Yep.” I pop the p. “Not my finest moment.”
“Well, it’s not the most subtle way to get your point across, but dare I say, it was likely effective.”
“Subtle has never been my specialty, V.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “I should learn to hex.”
She barks a laugh as she grabs her messenger tote, readying to head out for the day.
“Goodness, Bailey, this world is in for some trouble if you ever decide to take up witchcraft.”
I roll my eyes at her back as she saunters toward the door. “Love you, V!”
“Love you back, B!”
I finish off my pop-tart and coffee, grab my backpack and helmet, and head out. I’ve got a day full of classes and I picked up a closing shift at the bar tonight. Ivy’s got her LSAT this weekend, so I likely won’t be seeing much of her, but she is letting me borrow her car tomorrow so I can get some laundry done.
I’m juggling a lot of shit right now, but with any luck, I’ll have enough money to give Flannagan’s to go ahead on my order by next month. Fingers freaking crossed.