Clay and I talk three or four times a day, see each other every other day It’s like old times, like three years haven’t gone by Well, maybe not the same. I’ve grown more confident in myself; I’ve refused to put Clay on a pedestal. I keep reminding him he’s lucky I’ve taken him back, and he always nods enthusiastically, like he is, indeed, the luckiest guy alive. He texts me more than a guy with a big ego would. He’s very gushy always pouring out his feelings. And I’m an empty cup, ready to be filled with all that gush. It’s a hectic day at the store. We’ve had three new clients sign up this week, and we’re starting to get backlogged, so Brooklyn and I came in early to try to get ahead. We’re getting along better, as long as I don’t mention God and she doesn’t mention Clay. Speaking of God, He hasn’t been around, which makes me realize Shrinkhead was right…He was a figment of my imagination all along. Not that I don’t believe in God. I know He’s out there somewhere, and He’ll look in on me when it’s needed.
