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No fucking idea

Kennedy

I barely even know this temp. It’s like we’re having a bastard leaving party for everyone these days, even if they’ve only been there five minutes. Drury’s is busy with Friday night drinkers, and I’m huddled in a corner, wedged between Pam and Julie as they recount office stories from ten years ago.

They were boring the last three times I heard them, and my nerves are on edge as the clock ticks, counting down my window of opportunity in which I can legitimately turn up at Riven’s to see Anna.

She can’t freeze me out forever, even if she’s doing a mighty fine job of it this week.

I’m not usually jealous, that isn’t my style, and I definitely shouldn’t be jealous of Riven, given that he’s been my best friend for almost a lifetime, through thick and thin and everything in between, but I am.

I’m jealous of the way she doesn’t snipe at every word he utters. I’m jealous of the way he goes to sleep in the room next door to her every evening.

I’m jealous of the closeness they’re devel
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