My Favorite Stranger

2

Mya parked her car somewhere no one would bother parking. She hated the idea of parking too close to people with her 80 thousand dollar car and then some. She could afford any scratches and unwanted markings to be fixed, but that wasn't the point.

She arrived at Eighty 8, instinctively looking for Jeanie, who she spotted sitting at their usual table by the back of the shop. Her platinum blonde hair and laptop set on the square table was the first thing she noticed.

It wasn't jammed today, a few stragglers here and there sitting by themselves eating snacks and drinking coffee. It was quiet this early afternoon, which was a little unusual for Eighty 8, but Mya appreciated it nonetheless.

Her hangover wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with the loud chatter and antics of others right now.

Mya placed her bag over her lap as she sat down in the empty seat in front of Jeanie, who looked up from her phone with bright blue eyes, happy to see her friend.

"I ordered our usuals already, I'm so happy you made it," Jeanie said with a smile.

"You're the best. Thank you."

"How are you?" Jeanie asked, her tone simmering down into that coddling sweet intonation Mya hated. It seemed like everyone had a meeting discussing how they were going to talk to Mya from now on and they all settled on that. "How's work, everything. I want all the deets."

The corner of Mya's lips twitched in what would've been a smile if she wasn't so annoyed with the question. She cleared her throat, running a hand through her hair and crossing a leg. "Um, things have been ... the same. We have a summit coming up in Santa Praiser. I have to be there with several other heads of departments of course," — a small sigh — "Other than that, same old."

"And the drinking?" Jeanie asked quietly.

"Cut in half," Mya lied instantly. "Doing better."

Jeanie eyed Mya closely. She's known her friend for years and she could tell when she was lying.

"Mya ..."

"I'm hungover. Happy?"

Jeanie sighed, "It's still bad?"

Mya shrugged, her eyes avoiding Jeanie's, "I don't know. I just ... need to stop thinking. I have nothing that helps me stop thinking."

A barista briefly interrupted the conversation, placing down two large coffee cups by the end of the table as Jeanie quickly disposed of her laptop. Mya eyed the cups, spotting hers with her initials written on them.

"Thank you," Mya said to the male barista.

"No problem ladies. Enjoy."

Mya was dreading for the previous conversation to continue. She hoped that it died for good, that they'd move on to something else as they leisurely sipped their coffee together, but she knew that wasn't going to happen.

"You haven't considered a therapist?" Jeanie asked.

Mya took another sip of her coffee and sighed softly in pure relief. "I don't have time."

Jeanie frowned. "Mya you have to make time so you can get better. I want you to heal and grow."

"I'll be fine," Mya said dryly. "Time heals all, right?"

"But you're not fine. You need help," Jeanie argued.

"Jeanie, everything is okay. I do my job, I get home from work, I get paid — rinse and repeat. No one bothers me, no one messes with me, I'm not obligated to text or call anyone, no one to worry about when I come home, it's great. Truly.
No man child, no problem," Mya said bitterly.