There was a second of silence on the other line, and then I heard a small sigh. “Oh, Chance,” Sophie said, and she sounded as disappointed as I felt.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Natalie
Our new apartment was a shoebox that was located about fifteen minutes from the campus. Missy had found it a few months ago and she had jumped at it because the rent was so cheap. I was past caring though, as long as the freezer kept my ice cream from melting, I was okay.
“What is the point of this?” Missy demanded, turning on me.
“Um…what?”
“That tub in your hands,” she said, eyeing it as though it were the enemy.
“It’s cookies and cream,” I said, offering her a spoonful. “Want a bite?”
“No, I do not want a bite,” Missy said, in annoyance. “You realize that ice cream will just go straight to your hips?”
I shrugged uncaringly. “It’s delicious, and it makes me feel better.”
“Does it really?”
“No,” I admitted. “But it helps.”
“I can’t believe you bought a whole tub of ice cream,” she said. “This has to be a low point.”
“Isn’t this what girls do after a breakup?” I said, popping a large spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. “And anyway, it’s a mini tub. The point is to finish it in one sitting.”
“You need to go out,” she said with finality.
I raised my eyebrows. “Pass.”
“Come on, Nat,” she pleaded with me. “You haven’t really been out since the breakup.”
“I go out,” I said defensively.
“Oh yeah? Where?” Missy demanded.
“I went to the grocery store and bought myself a tub of ice cream,” I said, giving her a half-hearted smile.
Missy smacked her forehead with her hand. “This is not healthy.”
“Geez… If you’re so worried about the calories, I’ll go for a run tomorrow, okay?”
She frowned at me. “I’m not talking about the ice cream,” she said, half-amused. “I’m talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Sitting there in your sweats, day in, day out, stuffing your feelings under food cravings and refusing to go out and talk to anyone.”
“What do you mean by ‘day in and day out’? It’s only been four days since the breakup,” I said. “Also I talk to my parents, and I talk to you,” I said. “I think that’s enough talking.”
“Me and your parents do not count,” she said firmly. “You need to mix with other people…new people…male people.”
“Urgh.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I know what you’re trying to do,” I said. “You’re trying to get me out there so that I can meet another guy.”