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"Hey, I thought you'd come to the bathroom. We could talk there."
"I'm exhausted," I mumbled through my full mouth, and she was amused.
After grabbing a bottle of orange juice and bringing it over, she took her seat beside me as well and began to eat.
"You're fully dressed, so there really must be an issue. Did they call you or something to tell you not to come in?"
"I have no clue what's happening," I replied and set the last piece of the waffle back down on my plate.
"Did you quit, or were you fired?"
"Both, I guess," I answered, and she gave me a dry look. "Okay, I'll explain."
I told her about what Guy had said before I arrived at the restaurant, about transferring me, and then about how I had gone to his apartment later on to hand in my resignation.
"Why the hell would you do that?" she asked, thoroughly confused. "You didn't try to kill him on purpose; you made a mistake. And it wasn't even your fault; you were given the wrong information."
"It's my job to not use bad information as an excuse," I replied. "After all, and to be sure, I could have just asked him what he was allergic to."
"That's unfair to you," she said. "From the beginning, he hasn't been the easiest person to approach, so why all the expectations of cordiality?”
She was right; however, I couldn't confidently see this as a defense for everything, so I simply remained quiet.
"Anyway," she said, "After you acted, insane. What did he say?"
"The reason I went there was just to apologize, of course, and since I was quitting and since he'd told me before that working together was the reason why we couldn’t be intimate, I offered it."
At my words, she stopped chewing, and then her mouth dropped open.
I looked away.
“You what?”
"What is it about the night, Mandy, and its tendency to make people lose their brains?" I asked. "Now, in the light of day, I am mortified."
"No, no, no," she said. "That's not the story here. What did he say after you proposed that?"
"He agreed," I said, and her mouth fell open again.
"So, what's the problem?"
I stared at her, upset about her not getting it, and she was amused.
"Okay, let me not trouble you with my own brain," she said, and I continued with my meal.
"I spent the night there," I told her, "With him. We fell asleep on the couch together, and from the time I woke up till now, I've just been a mess."
"Wait, what?" she asked. "You... you two did it on the couch?"
I paused at the question, watching her hands twist together like they were having sex.
"Actually, we did everything else, but we didn't actually have sex. We were going to. That's why he carried me to the couch, but then after I came, we just both fell asleep."
"What," she shut her eyes, trying to understand. "So, before you two could have sex, you fell asleep?"
"Yes."
"And he carried you?"
