NIKKI & JOE, CASUALLY | updates every monday

20: wrap it up, baby girl!

            'It's not gonna fade, you git.'

I glare at Caleb for a few seconds over our computer monitors before returning my focus to the trial NutriLents website. 'It might.'

'Yeah, it might.' Even someone who had been raised in an isolated village where no one has ever said a single dishonest thing in history or even heard the word "sarcasm" could tell Caleb is taking the piss. 'Except I've analysed the data and it's a ninety-nine per cent chance it'll go the opposite way.'

'Not necessarily,' I say, fully conscious of my wishful thinking.

We both know I've only just told him about the possibly-might-have-been-a-near-kiss and the conversation that followed five minutes ago, on Monday afternoon, rather than two seconds after Joe and I went back inside Shot Locker last Saturday precisely because I didn't want him to burst my tiny bubble of dimwitted hope. It's so easy to imagine the feelings that I could grow for her. I could drop the seeds into soil and they would blossom within days.

And she'll yank them out like everyone does, leave the roots to ache in my body like ingrown hairs. What use would she have for them? Even if Joe weren't in love with her ex, even if she wanted a relationship, what the fuck could I have to offer?

My love is a monsoon. A few might like it first, get excited by the force of it, only to realise that it's all there is: water, stripped of everything that could make it nourishing. The rain never stops and soon enough all your socks are wet with nowhere to dry them and your hair is permanently frizzy. Nothing can grow in a storm.

And sometimes distance is exactly what a plant needs to grow—you can't be misting the leaves and forking the soil for gnats every five seconds. Too much fertiliser is toxic. It's clingy and it's annoying and if I knew how to love people I wouldn't have to try so hard.

Allan's right, me looking for a relationship is a lost cause. Maybe when I'm thirty-five I'll've managed to grow a single flower of love that's not lopsided and missing petals.

'Men and women can actually be friends.'

'The fuck has this got to do with men and women? This is about you and Joe.'

Caleb throws his Manchester City stress ball at me. It bounces off my forehead, hits my screen, and lands on my keyboard.

'You catch feelings like the flu, baby girl. Can you stop handing your heart out like it's a condom at Pride? Put a condom around it. Get a Magnum since it's so fucking big. The whole point of you becoming celibate was so you could protect your emotions, remember?'

I scoff as I upload the photos of the new pumpkin spice protein bars NutriLents is launching text week onto the trial website. Of course, when I go to preview it, none of the links work and all the text is in the wrong place.

I grind my teeth. 'Stop looking at me. I'm tryna work here.'

'Work?' Caleb repeats. 'You're on Reddit like six hours of the day and on break for an hour. So actually you work an hour a day. You don't have to do it right now.'

My eyes tarry to his. Caleb is still leaning on his side to watch me past our monitors and therefore easy to scowl at. 'That is not true.' Sure, I spend a lot of time on Reddit since Evan, our boss, highly overestimates how much time it takes to turn a thing off and on again and I'm not gonna be the one to correct him. But not six hours.

Caleb arches an eyebrow. 'You were on Reddit ten minutes ago.'

'It were for work stuff.'

'In r/Gay?'