“No, I’m just happy you’re happy,” Nat lied through her teeth, running a hand through her hair as she stared you dead in the eyes. “What, you want me to say something I don’t believe? Fuck, no. Do I wish that he wasn’t an asshole? Yeah.”

That wasn’t the only wish involving you she could think of.

You had been with this lame-o for a week, and Nat was already sick of it. Yeah, she knew you had a hard time with pulling guys, but that wasn’t an issue for her. What was an issue was the memories of kisses on her bed, of doing her eyeliner a bit too close for comfort— the memories you seemed to forget. And now, you had a boyfriend and Nat was clearly over all of it.

“What do you want me to say? Seriously.”