05

**

porscha He's not answering. It's the second time I've called in fifteen minutes, and I haven't had any replies to the messages I've been sending either. Did he still remember being here at two? I hang up and look at the clock on the bar wall, seeing that it's almost midnight. There are still two hours before my boyfriend thinks my shift is over and he can come pick me up. And here I was thinking we'd be lucky today, if I left early, to have an amazing night. Shit. I need to fix my car. I can't keep depending on him for rides. Music plays around me, customers laugh to my right, and one of the bartenders fills the cooler with ice on my other side. I start to feel restless. If he's not picking up, then he's either asleep or left. Both mean he'll remember me when it's too late. He's not always reliable, but this wouldn't be the first time, either. That's the problem with turning your friend into a boyfriend, I think. He still thinks he can get away with it. I grab my shirt and bag from