18 Feb 2009

“So who did you run into this morning?”

That was the first thing Mitchie told me the moment we met in the lobby for lunch that Monday morning. I groaned.

“What…I mean, how did you know about that? Is our office that small that everyone knows what’s happening?” I asked, bewildered. The elevator door opened and thankfully, no one else was heading out at that time, so we could continue our conversation inside.

“Well, it happened in the pantry, so it’s not exactly a secret,” Mitchie scoffed as the door slid close behind her.

I leaned at one of the walls of the small chamber. “So, what did you hear?”

“You. Matt. Talking. What happened?”

We reached the lobby and we stepped out into the bright noon-day sun. Other people were walking around us, heading to their own lunch destinations. Mitchie and I started walking to the direction of Carol’s shop, where we would be meeting our friend for lunch.

“It was nothing. He was just offering me a stirrer for coffee. I didn’t even want to talk to him,” I said with a sigh.


“That’s it! He talked to me first.” I added, remembering the encounter that morning.

“He did, huh,” Mitchie mused. “So what’s the status?”


“Are you still mad at him?”

“Yeah…well…ugh, I don’t know,” I said in frustration. “I mean, I’m still pretty pissed off, but it’s been a month, and I have this nagging feeling that I should be letting go of it already, but I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

I gave Mitchie a glare and she laughed. “I hate your questions. Anyway, I don’t know either! Sometimes when I see him I get really pissed off, sometimes I just don’t care anymore. Sometimes I even miss the things we talked about. I don’t know. I still get this extreme desire to rant about him every now and then, though.”

“Ah.” Mitchie nodded understandingly. She had just gotten out of a relationship and she was guilty of ranting about her ex every now and then, too.

“But wait, I have a question,” I raised my hand up to stop her from talking. She waited for me to ask my question. “Who told you about it? You weren’t there yet when that happened. I’m sure you couldn’t have seen it.”

Mitchie hesitated. I suddenly had a feeling of who told her about it, but I wanted to hear it straight from her. I looked at her warily.

“Come on, spit it out.”

My friend raised her arms in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. But don’t tell him I told you, okay. It didn’t come from me!” I nodded.

“It was Ian.”

[448 words]

Author’s Note: Yes, this is a continuation of yesterday’s piece, Stirrer. Not necessarily a series, I just felt like continuing that one. 🙂

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