The Messy Months [EDITING]

November - 6

When Marcy got home that night after her shift at the restaurant, she could tell Bailey was home before she even got in the door. One of the planters by the front door had been knocked over, and the unmistakable tread of Bailey's shoes was visible in a little puddle of dirt.

Marcy opened the unlocked door, letting herself in. "Bailey?"

"In here!" She called from the bathroom. "This might take me a while."

Marcy snickered, kicking her shoes off and sliding her bag off her shoulder. She went to set it on the kitchen counter, picking up a little bottle of opened pills. They were unmarked, so Marcy couldn't tell what they were. Bailey stepped in, her hair wet and her skin blotchy.

"Well that didn't take as long as I thought." Bailey froze when she saw the bottle of pills in Marcy's hand.

"I'm sorry," Marcy said, quickly setting the bottle down. "I was trying to figure out what they were. They're unmarked. How do you keep track of them?"

Bailey giggled, reaching around her friend to grab the bottle and snap the lid onto it. "They're not actual pills, dork. They're tic tacs. I like to keep them in my purse. Especially," she downed two before screwing the lid on, "on days like these.

"Oh, okay." Marcy stooped to open their mini fridge. "How are you feeling? Do you need me to make you something?"

"I don't think we have anything to make."

"Alright, maybe I could go out and get you something?"

"We could go to the cafe. I'm really craving a latte right now." Bailey started retreating from the kitchen. "I'll be ready to leave in twenty."

After they got their drinks, Marcy and Bailey sat in the corner booth that lined the front window, taking in this rarely used portion of the cafe. "Did this place used to be a diner?" she asked Bailey.

Her friend shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. "Probably."

Marcy clung to her cup, wondering how she was going to approach the topic she wanted to discuss. She decided to start small, and gradually lead the conversation where she wanted it to go.

"I broke up with Trym," she blurted out. "Wait. I didn't want to start with that."

Bailey looked at her friend with bloodshot eyes. She took a long sip of her drink, her gaze wandering before focusing back on Marcy. "Good for you."

Marcy blinked, trying to interpret her friend's blank reaction. "Are you really that hungover? Do you not remember telling me what you saw?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down. Yes, I remember. I'm just not surprised that you would do that. You've proven you like to make irrational decisions."

Marcy studied her friend, leaning back in her seat. "Irrational decisions?"

"No, not irrational. Just rash." Bailey took another sip at her drink, watch a group of boys step into the cafe. "Whoa, look at blondie over there."

"Bails, please, focus. I want to talk about this. I need some comfort."

Bailey kept staring over her shoulder. "And I need me some eye candy. Phew, look at him."

Marcy slammed her cup down, finally capturing Bailey's attention. "I waited up most of the night for you. I waited all day, for you. I was pretty freaking worried, Bailey. You called me to say you were drunk and that my boyfriend was cheating on me, and then you didn't contact me back for over eight hours. I need some support right now."

"Alright, what do you want me to say? You're better off without him? You should wait for him to apologize then take him back? You don't listen to me, Marcy. How am I supposed to give you advice you won't listen to?"