When I'm with you

Chapter 18

Me: "Wait, what did Chad say?"

Jane: "YOU GUYS DID IT, DIDN'T YOU? WE DID INTERRUPT YOU LAST TIME! OH GOD, ANNE, HOW COULD YOU?"

Me: "WHAT? NO! DAMN IT JANE DON'T SHOUT THAT'S NOT--"

Jane: "Liar, liar, pants on fire! You took advantage of his weakness! I knew you had it in you."

Me: "NO! WE--"

Jane: "Did you undress him?"

Me: "WHAT NO JANE--"

Jane: "So he undressed for you?"

Me: "Oh God, no--"

Jane: "Oh, I get it. HE undressed YOU!"

Me: "HE WAS SICK, WE DIDN'T--"

Jane: "Did you wipe his hot body down with a wet cloth?"

Me: "NO, JUST STOP--"

Jane: "Did you stay IN BED with him till the morning after to keep him warm?"

Me: "JANE--"

Jane: "Please tell me you used protection--"

And that's when I slapped her. Not that hard, but enough to make her speechless. She gawked at me for 5 whole seconds before speaking.

"What the hell?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"Look, it was the only way to shut you up. I'm sorry. Oh, wait, I don't think I am. You're being ridiculous!"

"Hey, why are you so red?"

"UGH. Do you want me to slap you again?"

She sighed.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, too. That hurt, you know." She said, massaging her cheek.

"Awesome. You always make the most inappropriate assumptions. You and Chad are the same. Great friends, but idiots."

Jane fidgeted a little at the mention of Chad's name. The corner of her lips twitched, holding back a smile. I realized that lately the two of them had been getting along quite well. I toyed with the idea of telling her about that day in the snow with Chad, but decided not to at the last second. I still felt weird about that, to be honest.. I still remembered his gloomy expression as he stared into space and the serious look on his face when he asked me if I was dating anyone. It felt like Chad and I's little secret. I still wasn't comfortable sharing that with anyone.

Jane reached for a pillow and hugged it to her chest.

"Right. Go on, you tell the story. I'll listen." She said, pretending to zip her lips shut.

In the end though, she couldn't keep quiet. As I told her about my cooking fiasco, she interrupted me with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand.

"You googled the recipe for rice porridge? You're pathetic."

"Well, he seemed to enjoy it."

"Hold on. You mean to tell me you cooked and fed him chicken rice porridge? How is he still alive? You know what, we should probably check on him. He might be at the hospital right now for food poisoning."

I rolled my eyes at her, annoyed.

"He actually said the same thing."

She burst out laughing, covering her face with the pillow.

"He.. Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I can't--"

I waited patiently for her to calm down. Finally, she composed herself and said: