Lost In Us (Lost 1)

"No, I was just at Ms. Evans, delivering her daughter's prom dress," she pants.

"You've been working a lot lately. Are you guys okay financially?"

I offered sending them money when I got my bookkeeping job, but Mum vehemently refused, claiming that I should focus on my studies and only work as least as possible—to cover my expenses. I will make sure it's my mother who'll work as least as possible after I graduate. Assuming I actually do find a damn job, of course.

"Don't you worry, dear. It's just a favor I've been doing for Ms. Evans."

"You've been doing a lot of favors lately, Mum."

"We're fine, honey. Really. Tell me about you. Are you all right? Is Jess taking care of you?" she asks in the soft tone that always precedes a question involving Michael’s and my breakup.

&nbs

p; "Mum, I really am over Michael."

I can pass by car dealerships just fine now, without any spasm of panic. Granted, I haven't been near the one Michael worked in San Francisco ever since the breakup, but I know I'd be fine. Someone else has the power to shatter me now.

"Hmm," Mum says, sounding utterly unconvinced.

I sigh. "Is Dad around?"

"He's in the garden," she says at once.

"What on earth are you blackmailing him with to convince him to spend so much time in the garden?" I joke.

I never got the impression that Dad was into it at all. When I asked him for advice on Jess's dying gardenia once, he nervously passed Mum the phone. But that's the thing about Dad. There isn't much he wouldn't do to see Mum happy.

"Honey, can I call you later? Ms. Evans just texted that I forgot my measuring tape at her place."

"Sure." She's gone the next second.

"What are you doing in my closet?" I say to Jess, who's rummaging through my dresses. She peeks behind the open door, then steps away from it holding a tiny black strapless dress—the shortest one I own. Jess gave it to me as a present. I've worn it exactly once.

"I have an announcement to make," she says.

"You're finally dyeing your hair red and need an equally shocking dress for your new look," I say, yawning. She's been threatening to do so since the beginning of the year.

"No, I decided I'm not yet ready for that." She throws the dress on the bed and claps her palms together, resting her chin on her fingers. "I got to the next interview round. They're flying me to London in one month."

"That's so wonderful," I cry, a little spasm of panic rushing through me as I dash off the bed and hug her. My best friend taking off… I knew she applied literally everywhere, but I always hoped we'd somehow remain near to each other.

"I would love, love, love to live in London," she says in my hair.

I let go. "You haven't even been to London, Jess."

"And I already love it. So," she puts her hands on her hips and smiles wryly, "we're going out tonight."

"What? Why?"

"To celebrate, duh."

I raise an eyebrow. "I thought we agreed to celebrate only when one of us actually gets a job."

"Well, it looks like it'll take a while until that happens, and I need a good excuse to go out."

"Like you ever need one," I smirk.

"Well no, but you do," she says.