My best friend and I decided to give Friday a try.
We didn’t do Friday. She was an introvert, and I was a workaholic. She liked her Fridays at home, in the company of a good book and a cup of coffee. I didn’t like my Fridays because I usually stayed up late in the office, for one reason or another.
But that Friday, she randomly said she wanted to go out. Maybe she woke up in the wrong side of the bed, but that was what she announced when we met for lunch at the office cafeteria.
“Why?” I had to ask. Because it was totally out of character for her.
She looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head. “To get you out of your cubicle, silly.”
I blinked. Wait, this was about me?
I did not see that coming.
“Uh… and why, exactly?”
She snorted. “You’ve been wearing yourself thin all week. Going home at eleven? Every day? I’d give you a raise, but that’s the last thing you need. Also, I’m not your boss.”
I struggled to say something. It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard those words from her a thousand times before, but I always found a need to defend myself when she questioned my lifestyle choices. Every single time. Even if I gave her the same lousy excuses. “What do you mean, that’s the last thing I need?”
“You need to lighten up, girl.”
“… I’m light enough, thank you very much.”
She actually laughed, but I was too confused to get offended. “You know what I mean!”
I knew perfectly what she meant, but I was in a state of confusion. What do I do next? What should I wear? I’m pretty sure girls who party don’t come in cardigans and jeans. Should I buy a new dress? And get my hair done? I like keeping my hair in a bun because it was efficient, but what was the probability of girls in buns getting dates?
My thoughts spiraled away even further. What if something happens to me? Will she be okay with that? Will my friends be okay with that? Will my reputation be ruined forever, and I’ll be forced to live in shame for the rest of my life? Although they’ll never find out unless I tell them, because I don’t even update my Facebook… and do I even have friends? But wait, what about him? He’ll know for sure that I’ve never been with a man before. Would that ruin my chances? How do you even dance properly in a bar?
Her laugh shook myself out of my mental ramblings. “Yep. You really need to lighten up.”
I really hate her sometimes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.