The Letter
Ariadne Tay
Part 21.5 – Cathy
As soon as I hear the front door close, I strip out of my work clothes and slip into something soft and comfortable. The bed calls to me like it always does these days, so I burrow under the blanket like a mole-rat and let my eyes fall shut.
But as soon as I begin to drift off, Jen bangs on my door.
“Ugh. I’m trying to sleep.” I cover my head with the comforter and try to block out the noise.
But she just gets louder and louder.
“Cathy! You don’t get to sleep right now!”
“I’m tired,” I reply, even though she probably can’t hear me.
“Cathy, I’m coming into your room.”
When she pushes my door open, I pull the blanket tighter around me and curl up into a ball.
“What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me is that I’m pregnant.”
Jen sighs. “There’s nothing wrong with pregnancy.”
“There is if your parents are gonna kill you when they find out,” I lament.
She groans and sinks onto the bed near my feet. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re sabotaging yourself. Eugene is obviously trying his best to help you, and you’re still pushing him away.”
I try to pull the blanket even tighter around me, but Jen’s sitting on the lower half. “I talked to him already. What more do you want?”
“I don’t know, maybe for you to not shut the door on him?”
“I didn’t shut the door on him.”
My flatmate huffs at my response. “Maybe not technically, but it definitely came across that way.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m willing to bet that Eugene would marry your sorry ass if it meant making things easier for you.”
“What? That’s crazy!” I flip the edge of the blanket down to get a little air. There’s no way that could be true, right? Nobody in their right mind—
“Do you even see how he looks at you? It’s clear that he likes you, even though at this point I’m not sure if there’s anything left to like. You’ve become a total witch.” Jen’s arms are crossed, and she looks a little pissed off.
“Become? Maybe I’ve always been one all along.” I know I should’ve just let it go, but I’m tired and hangry, so I couldn’t stop myself from snapping back.
Well, I could have. But I didn’t want to.
She’s not having it, though. She rolls her eyes and gives me a bored stare. “Don’t give me that crap, Cathy. You know that’s not true.”
“Do I?” She’s probably right, but I’m already riled up. “You can’t honestly tell me that I’m not difficult to get along with most of the time.”
“Cathy, just because you’re an introvert and you like being alone doesn’t mean you’re difficult to get along with. But right now you’re being difficult on purpose.”
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