Wednesday, Jul. 19, 2006
2:16 a.m.
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"We should do something." He suggests we bother a mutual friend, so we try to call. She doesn't pick up. His girlfriend calls and they chat for a while, then he turns to me.
"She wants to talk to you." He's giving me that I-don't-get-it face. I take the phone.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Hi Amanda. I want to talk to you," she starts, "about something that's been pissing me off."
I run through a list of things in my head. Is she mad I'm at his house? Does she know that I've had some sort of feelings for him for three years now? Is she going to call me a fat bitch again?
"Sure, go ahead," I say, ever the diplomat.
"It's about her. I hate her."
I almost burst out laughing.
"Really? How come?"
We have a discussion about how The Girlfriend is jealous of our friend, because she's cute.
"Well, me and him hang out," I say.
"Yeah, but she's pretty..."
She says other things, but they aren't as important. I revert to stock responses, It's Okay, He Loves You, You Have Nothing to Worry About, You're Cuter Than She is Anyway, whatever.
Telling people what they want to hear is great therapy.