Who do you need?
Who do you love?
When you come undone?
--Duran Duran, Come Undone
“Hey, are you alright?”
“Earth to Selene. Come in please.”
“Are you alright?”
“Sure. I guess. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You really haven’t been yourself tonight.”
“Sorry. I’m a little distracted, I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“If you don’t want to tell your best friend about it, that’s okey. But we girls have to have each other’s backs, you know.”
“Yes, I know. I sorry. I don’t mean to be a drag. I don’t know what’s with me.”
“You need more sleep. That’s one thing.”
“And that’s why I’m sending you home to bed right now. I’m serious.”
“I know you’re right.”
“Well chop-chop. March, young lady. We’re done here, obviously.”
The two traded money to pay the check and walked out of the restaurant. With high heels on the curb, Selene hailed a cab.
“You’re okay from here?”
“Definitely,” Selene said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I expect to see you rested.”
Selene slammed the door, and the cabbie pulled out. She waved back to the sidewalk where her friend had started walking, but the gesture was clipped and brief.
After she gave her address, she stared out at the passing city streets.
She knew her face had fallen. The meager façade was gone.
The cellphone turned in her fingers.
Six blocks later, she called him.