I’m at Britta’s house, making amends in the form of a revisited stereo-typical ‘ladies night’. Due to an issue with genitals, we have renamed it to ‘pampered night’.
After Professor Duncan asked me to leave early when I would not tell him what was in Annie’s journal or would I speak about my notebook, I went directly to Britta’s first class to apologize.
According to He’s Just not that into you, if you miss a funeral or wedding you have to apologize by helping out with something they are committed to; Women’s Reform 101 seemed the perfect place to apologize.
When I got there, I asked the professor if I could sit in. After a startled response, she agreed and I sat next to Britta’s preferred seat. She sat down without noticing me; I apologized and said I would help her with the dishes, even if we aren’t married. Britta asked me if I assumed she would be in the kitchen, and I tried again with “It wasn’t a chicken.”, and nodded solemnly.
She understood that one and after I apologized for leaving early, she seemed to relent a bit. She started crying, and got kicked out of class by her teacher. I skipped my first class so Britta could try to analyze why I felt so uncomfortable in the face of death (it distracted her from crying for a bit). She has really been relying on Annie lately and said she wanted to come to our apartment for a few days to clear her head.
I told her that I wasn’t sure we have the space, and she started to get upset. She told me she didn’t want to be alone, as she can’t stop thinking about the last time her Uncle and her spoke. She said ‘I would even invite you over if it meant I wouldn’t have to be alone.”; of course I accepted the invitation. She paused, and finally consented that I could go over before running off to find Annie.
When I finished my classes, I went to wait for Britta by her car. Annie texted me asking where I was, and I let her know that I’m spending the night here. Annie’s mom (whom I texted about having upset someone, and needing to make things better) suggested I spend the night with her, and comfort her about her issues and anxieties. Annie will understand (Troy thought it was weird).
Britta’s house smells like how I imagine Christopher Walken would smell; sort of like an old grocery bag that’s been left on the porch for a week with forgotten peaches. She sat down, and after a few minutes of silence, I brought out all of the ‘feel good’ activities I had researched last night.
I have to go; the foot-baths are ready.
