High

Chapter Seven-Crying in the club

"Christopher, would you please answer your phone?" I gritted out against my phone, "It's urgent."

I looked at my call log, seeing that I had left Christopher at least twenty voice messages. The next one that I send, though, won't be cordial in the slightest.

I plopped down on the couch and placed my phone on the coffee table. I glanced at Zoe pathetically, who was shoveling pieces of cereal in her mouth.

I scrunched my face at the sight, "Are you sure that you don't want to eat that with milk?" My voice raised a couple of octaves higher in order to speak over Zoe's rather loud crunchy chewing.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

"Ellie, you know that I'm lactose intolerant. And you don't have lactosefree milk in your pantry." Zoe defended herself weakly.

"There's lactose free milk in the fridge, imbecile." I stated flatly as I played with the strands of my hair.

Zoe shrugged, "Must've missed that."

I gave her pointed look and glanced down at the crumbs that lay on top of my couch, "Are you intolerant to bowls too?" I asked her.

Zoe's shoulders slumped, and in mock surrender, she put her hands up. "You know that you have this habit of hyperfixating on something that doesn't really need your focus right now."

I clicked my tongue, "Zoe, if I focus on the fact that a reputable newspaper website posted pictures of Christopher and I having casual hang outs for the entire internet to see," I took in a deep breath, shut my eyes and continued, "People are going to have the wrong perception."

Zoe shrugged, "Who the f*ck cares what others think?"

I bit my tongue as my mind drifted towards Maxwell. Right now, in this moment, I don't care what others think. Granted, I probably will later on, but right now, I care about what Maxwell Montgomery thinks.

Is it pathetic that I care about someone who effectively made the decision to eject me from their life?

Yes.

Whilst I made myself busy thinking about Maxwell, Zoe walked into my kitchen and pulled out my red seedless grapes.

Effectively popping one grape in her mouth, Zoe quipped, "Besides whatever is going on between you and Chris. Is between the both of you."

I scoffed playfully whilst giving a playful glare, "says the girl who wanted to know everything about my friendship with Christopher."

Zoe closed her eyes and put her hand where her heart lay letting out a sigh of relief, "Friends. Thank you."

I gapped at her, a grin touching my lips as I asked, "Zoe, are you crushing on Christopher Collins?"

"What?! Absolutely not." Zoe rebutted loudly, and my expression matched that of unbelief.

"What I meant was that Chris gets around. And a softie like you is not cut out for the kind of lifestyle that encompasses Christopher Collins' life."

Moments of silence passed between us, and I couldn't help but question at the possibility once more.

I teased her, "Is it because he helped you get to my place when you were blackout drunk and had your puke on his T-shirt?"

If Zoe had any water to spit out that current moment, she would have. Zoe, who had sat cross-legged, had widened eyes and looked me with her mouth agape. She held this position for a few seconds.

Until she opened it, "WHAT?!"

****
I never liked walking at night, alone. It was something that I rarely did, but this was the only way, well, according to him, that we could meet.