Vivian pursed her lips together. “I don’t get you two. You fuck. You don’t talk. You have screaming fights. You avoid each other. You have late night phone calls. He goes back to his girlfriend. You are one messed up pair.”
“Says the woman who used to cat fight for her man’s attention,” I snapped.
Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well I grew up. I figured out that wasn’t a good way to be. I got honest with my feelings and stopped being a moron. Maybe you should take a leaf out of the Vivian Baily guide to men.”
“He’s with Sophie—”
“And he’s calling you at two in the morning. The both of you need to sort your shit out once and for all. We’re all a little tired of the yo-yo.”
I drew myself upright. “I’m so sorry that my love life isn’t going the way you think it should be!” I lowered my voice when I realized I was getting loud. “But things with Mitch have never been simple. We’ve always had really bad timing. Maybe we’re just not meant to synch up.”
“What’s so complicated about it? It seems pretty straightforward to me. He’s butt hurt because you ran out after screwing him. You have your nose out of joint because he rebounded with another girl. But at the end of the day he loves you. You love him. End of discussion.”
I stared down into my cup of coffee, annoyed at her blasé attitude. If it were her and Cole, she’d have blown a gasket at least three times this morning already.
“I don’t have my nose out of joint,” I complained.
Vivian snorted. “Sure you don’t.”
We finished the rest of our coffee in relative silence. I read the news on my phone and Vivian repainted her nails.
“I’d better get going—”
“I need to talk to you before you go,” Vivian cut me off.
“Okay. But I’m not talking about Mitch—” I glanced down at my phone to see the time. If I left now I’d be able to get into the office early and go over the article ideas…
“Cole and I want to move in together.”
I looked up from my phone, not sure I heard her correctly. “Huh?”
Vivian shrugged, but her eyes were worried. “Cole and I are going to move in together.”
“So you don’t want to move in together. You are moving in together,” I responded.
“He’s always here anyway. What’s the point of both of us paying rent?” Vivian started chewing on her bottom lip in a telltale sign that she was nervous.
“You want him to move in here?” I asked, horrified. I thought about last night’s crash, bam, whollop and shuddered at the thought of facing that twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I knew I couldn’t handle constant access to the Vivian and Cole peep show.
Just the other day I had come home from the grocery store to the sight of Cole walking around naked in the kitchen. He didn’t even bother covering up when I loudly dropped the bag onto the table.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I began but Vivian cut me off again. She had a bad habit of not letting me complete a thought.
“No, we want our own place, Gracie. He wouldn’t move in here, I’d be moving out.”
Oh.
Well, that changed things.
“When were you thinking of moving?” I asked weakly. I had to get to work. This was a really bad time to be having this conversation.
Vivian continued to chew on her lip. It was a wonder she had any skin left. “Next month.” She gave me a feeble smile.
“Next month,” I repeated dully.
“I know it seems sudden. But that gives you more than enough time to find another roommate if you need one. Though now that you’re fulltime at the magazine, maybe you could have the place all to yourself. Think how awesome that would be! You could put up those horrible pictures that I hate—”
“They’re Pollock prints. They’re abstract expressionist masterpieces,” I interrupted indignantly.
“Yeah, well they look like paint splatters on a piece of paper and they’re freaking ugly,” Vivian argued.
“Have you found a place then?” I asked.
Vivian grimaced. “Yeah, we signed the new lease last week.”