Silence stretched over the line as I sat, mouth hanging open, trying to get over the fact that A) He thinks I deliberately stole his things (psh…like he couldn’t afford to buy them again), B) He saw me jump off the balcony, and C) that this rude little fucker just called me out my name. Oh HEEEELLLL no. I honestly like to think I’m a nice person, but I don’t take kindly to name calling. I don’t care how good you look or how much money you have, NO ONE has the right to call me that.

I heard an angry huff followed by, ‘Hello? Did you hear what I - ’

‘Ok, superstar, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna hang up this phone and let you think about how to speak to a lady. You can call me back once you remember your home training, ok?’

‘Excu –‘ and with that I hit End.

There was a short pause before the phone began ringing again. I looked up at Jen and James and hit ‘Ignore’.

‘Can you believe him?’

Jen shook her head, ‘What a douche bag! You’re holding his career in your hands and he talks to you like that! We should call TMZ on his ass!’

James scoffed, ‘I’m so boycotting Justin Timberlake, I don’t care how good he looks on the cover of GQ. No one treats my bestie like that.’

I let Justin cool down over the next few calls, then answered on the fourth ring,

‘Hello?’

After a pause, I heard a sigh and mumbled, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Wait, what was that? The reception here is just awful.’

‘I said I’m sorry, ok! It was rude of me to call you that, even if you are a thief.’

‘Yes it wa – wait, what? Thief? I didn’t steal anything from you!’

He chuckled, ‘So my phone just magically ended up with you?'

I rolled my eyes and sighed at his stupidity.

   “Why yes, I said, ‘Accio cell phone!’ and there it was.” (Yeah, I know the irony in a grown woman making Harry Potter references, but I’m an aspiring children’s writer, remember?)

‘Look at the phone in your hand, it’s identical to mine. I just picked up the wrong one before I left.’

He scoffed. ‘You mean jumped. You know it’s funny, after being with me, the only place most girls wanna jump is back on my - ’

‘Well, I guess I’m just not like most girls then. Look, I was extra trashed last night which obviously impaired my decision making abilities or this wouldn’t have happened. Frankly, I just want to get my phone back and go on with my life, so do you have an address where I could send your phone or do you want to send someone to pick it up?’

There was a long pause on the line. Though I couldn’t see him, I imagined he was staring at the phone in disbelief. He probably isn’t used to rejection, poor thing, but I have worked WAY too hard for anyone to think I’m just another groupie.

‘Uh wow… um. Yeah, I….damn girl that was harsh…’

‘Sorry, but it’s the truth. So, you want my address?’

‘Uh, I don’t…no, I can’t trust anyone to know about my – uh, this … thing. Look, I’m gonna be at the studio in like 10 minutes, meet me there.’

I just love how he assumed that I’d just jump at his beck and call, like I don’t have a life to attend to.

‘Um, it’s like eleven o’clock, I’m at work. I can’t just up and leave. I get off work at 5, I can meet you right after if you’re close.’

‘What about 7?’

‘No can do. I have a thing.’

He sighed. ‘You’re not making this easy.’

I groaned. Today was supposed to be a good day. Why you ask? It’s the last Friday of the month that we’ve affectionately renamed D-Day (aka Debauchery Day). James, Jen, and I (with the exception of today) normally don’t get to spend much time together so we created D-Day where we basically honor our three B’s: Booze, Boys, and Bars. It’s like an R-rated Christmas at the end of every month and this ass is trying to cut in on it.

‘Well excuse me for having a life. Ok, I guess I could meet you AT 6:30. I’d be cutting it close but – ‘

‘Great! Meet me on the street behind 2200 South Grand. See you then.’

I opened my mouth to reply but was met with a dial tone. I sighed and stood up. So much for a happy D-Day.

James gave me an incredulous look. ‘And where are you going?’

‘Uh, to my desk? Someone’s probably looking for me by now.’

‘Oh no you’re not. I’m going to continue being an awesome best friend and cover your ass while you call Jackie to take care of that…nest’ he said, pointing to my hair.

Jackie is our mutual friend and hairdresser who works wonders of biblical proportions on my unruly mane of hair and is consequently the only person I let near me with a curling iron.

‘But what about my boss?’

‘Oh please, I’ll tell him had a personal emergency and had to go. And before you say it, you can afford to take a personal day, trust me. I mean, you look like you got attacked by an angry maple tree and you can’t walk around like that, it’s shameful.’

Jennifer busted out laughing before adding, ‘And for God’s sake, turn that shirt around!’

Jesus, when you have friends like these, who needs enemies….