The next day I woke up at noon, because: unemployed, unmotivated, unwanted.

I ate lunch and texted Hayley: What time will you be home today, I'll meet you there with my stuff.

She texted back: Girlfriend, that was some serious partying, hungover! I called in sick. Come on over.

So I loaded my two boxes of clothes, my toiletries, and my bedding in the backseat of my car and drove to Hayley's townhouse.

She had a guest room. She was ecstatic that I was there, but also hungover, so I made us some grilled cheese sandwiches, with cokes and chips, and we ate lunch on the couch, the AC on full blast. Hayley lamented how terribly she felt, and me too; I told her the whole story.

“You like him huh?”

“I did, he was — I liked him. I haven't felt like that in a long time, because Braden was different. We were getting married. It was all boring, planning, and scheming over more subscribers for our channel, marketing.”

“What about James?”

“It was a long time ago that I had any real feelings for him. I just thought he was a good idea.” I dropped the plate to the coffee table and leaned all the way back on the couch and pulled the comforter on me. We had the AC so cold we needed blankets.

“Come to find out, I'm super stupid. I thought James was a good idea, coming this close,” I pinched my fingers together, “to getting some kind of special disease with a name like the clamp or the hat rack or something. I would have been on the cover of People magazine: Unemployed young woman gets case of 'hat rack' from rubbing her thonged crotch on the pants of her philandering ex-boyfriend, because she thought it was a Good Idea.”

Hayley giggled. “Remember when you thought it was a good idea to sneak into the fort at night? We walked all the way there, miles, snuck in a window, got lost inside in the dark, totally freaked ourselves out, and missed curfew?”

“We climbed through the one window wide enough to fit through, and then every window we tried was too small. We were racing up and down the tunnels looking for the right window in a complete panic. I actually thought for a moment that maybe the wide window was gone, like the maze runner, the fort was a puzzle and had shifted in a circle and we were stuck there until the window shifted back or something.”

“Funny how the dark can get so freaky. Like this house. I hang out here all day, but then night comes, and it's a little scary. You'll see. That's why Michael spends the night every night.”

“Why doesn't he just move in?”

“Have you smelled his feet, Katie, seriously? That boy can move in when he finds odor-eaters that work.” She giggled so hard, she had to wipe her eyes. “Nah, he wants to move in. We just have two houses and can't decide what to do about them. He also has a roommate and likes his place; it has a dock. His boat is right there, ready to go. I love my townhouse. Right now we're like those rich people who live separated.”

“They usually hate each other, they do it because it's easier than a divorce. You and Michael really like each other, are you saying that living apart is easier than marriage?”

“Yep. And I've always loved him, and he's always loved me. We'll figure it out someday.”

She looked at me for a second. “I thought Magnus really liked you too. He had a way of looking at you that was... Crap, I can't figure out the word. I'm way hungover. Like he wanted to eat you for dessert.”

“I pulled the blanket up to my chin. “I thought so too. And I thought he was going to kiss me. And I thought he would invite me upstairs to spend the night. I was wrong on all counts. Just like I was wrong about James being a good idea. Just like I was wrong about Braden loving me. It's hard to be that wrong, so often, without there being a real issue on a systemic level. And six weeks ago, I thought I was amazing.” I burst into tears.

“Oh baby, poor baby.” Hayley sat up on her end of the couch and held onto my knees. “You are amazing. Maybe the dickhead YouTuber, and the dumbass contracter, and the weirdass Highlander aren't the best choices for ye.”

“Ye... God, when he calls me ye I just want to crawl into his arms. Isn't it piping, smoking, hella hawt?”

Hayley said, “When he says, 'Aye,' it has like four syllables, and all of them sound sexy. Michael turns you'all into a four syllable word, but he just sounds like a redneck.” She smiled. “My redneck though. All mine.”

“What is up with him wearing that kilt anyway?”

“What is up with him carrying a sword everywhere he goes? Maybe you're just turned on by mystery and danger.”

“Exactly. I can't be trusted with choices or men or life decisions or really anything.”

“As James would say, 'You just have to be smarter than the tool you're trying to operate.'” She leaned back on her arm on the couch. “My head hurts too bad to know if that applies.”

“It does. He's got one of those quips for every situation. Maybe he would be a good idea?”

Hayley sighed. “Stop with James already. I can't keep getting my hopes up. I think what you need to do is the exact opposite of what you think you should do.”

“The opposite? Like instead of crying I should..?”

“Go to a club, meet a guy, take him home.”

“You forget, that's what I was doing the other day with James. Trying for meaningless sex to get over Braden. Maybe I need to become a lesbian.” I peeked over the comforter, with my eyes crossed.

“I don't think you choose that. You were the most boy-crazy girl I knew through school, so yeah, I think you're stuck dealing with men. Or toys. My head hurts; this has been a hell of a hangover. My point is, what you're doing right now, not working. If opportunities come, take them, make something new happen. Meantime, let's watch a good movie. What about Clueless?”

“Yum, Paul Rudd.”

“See, not a lesbian.”