About a Girl. Lindsey Kelk

there was no way I’d be able to interrupt her successfully a third time. ‘I’ll just cease to exist. It’ll just be like, oh, ha ha ha, let’s have some wine and a dinner party, and, ooh, do you remember that funny little dark-haired girl who used to hang around? I wonder where she is now? Except you won’t even wonder because I’ll be dead and you won’t care.’

      ‘Are you done?’ I asked.

      ‘Are you married?’ She countered.

      ‘No.’ I replied.

      ‘Then, yes. Hang on, did you sleep with him before or after you found out about Vanessa?’

      ‘Before.’

      ‘Ohhh. Shit.’

      ‘Yeah.’

      I held the phone to my ear and we shared a comfortable silence. There really wasn’t anything else to say.

      ‘Are you OK?’ Amy broke first. As always.

      ‘Not really.’ I wasn’t any more. I was too tired.

      ‘Are you mad?’ she asked.

      ‘I am mad,’ I confirmed.

      ‘With me?’

      ‘With everyone alive,’ I said. ‘Except maybe Ryan Gosling.’ Who could be mad at Ryan Gosling?

      ‘Shall I come over when my train gets in?’ she asked. ‘We can burn pictures of the two of them? Or we could just break loads of her stuff?’