Elsa dug for her keys in her pocket, phone cradled to her left ear. "That's beside the point Merida," she said as she found them and unlocked front door, balancing the bags of the groceries in her arms. "I mean seriously, she's probably vanilla and is not into girls."
"You say that about every girl Elsa—no Jack, I don't want any of the eggs – and you've said that about every girl since Esmeralda," the girl on the other line said. The feisty redhead with the thick accent was one of Elsa's best friends from their undergrad days, and had called Elsa when she was on her way from home from work.
"I do not," Elsa said defensively, turning on the lights and setting the groceries on the counter. She leaned back and ran a hand through her bangs, sighing. "I just… you know, it still hurts."
"Elsa," Merida said softly, "it's been a year, almost. You've got to move on."
"It's just… hard, okay? I mean, I thought she'd be as broken up about it as I was. But no, she went off after a month and found a new top." Elsa sighed again. "Did you hear them talking at the last munch about Phoebus collaring her?"
"No, I didn't, and that doesn't matter Elsa. You know it doesn't. I told you that you should have taken a break from the – Jack, use olive oil, okay – a break from the scene—"
"And you know I couldn't do that." Elsa glanced over at the bags and sighed. "Look, I got to go. Are you still coming for dinner tomorrow?"
"Yeah, of course we are, that is if Jack doesn't burn down the apartment. Just ask for her number already!"
"Good night, Merida," Elsa said, rolling her eyes. "See you tomorrow."
"Good night luv. Jack says good night too!"
Elsa hung up and sighed a third time. Another night in an empty apartment.