“Ah, but the $125 a month is not for the equipment, it’s for the privilege of comparing every inch of your body to the professional gym rat working out next to you, keeping your sense of self-worth at a standard low- to mid-range level.”

Zoey thinks for a second. “I have Instagram for that,” she says before she pushes open the door that leads to our floor.

She stops right before we get to my apartment and turns around. “Everything about today should’ve sucked but, honestly, it was nice just to get out. I really haven’t been doing that as much as I should since I’ve been here.”

“I’ve noticed. Maybe we should remedy that.” The “we” feels like it echoes in the tight hallway.

“Thank you. For today.” Zoey smooths down her dress again and I get an inexplicable urge to touch the fabric too.

Instead I clear my throat. “You’re welcome. Though I don’t think I was much help.”

“You were,” she replies. “Just having someone there was helpful.”

Someone? Meaning it could have been anyone? I try not to let my voice betray the weird sting I feel. “Anytime. I’m here for all your dressing-down needs. Your sarcastic quips, your passive-aggressive rejoinders, your what have you.”

She smiles. “You should put that on a business card.”

“Not a bad idea. I could use some extra cash flow.” I wonder if I should pull a Stella and suggest a title rebrand to Leanne.

“Well, if I can ever return the favor, you just let me know.”

I laugh, and I’m not even sure why. The words are out of my mouth before I can think better of them. “I don’t think I’ll need help talking to my parents anytime soon. . . .”

Something flashes across her eyes and I think it might be the same flicker of hurt that just inadvertently passed through my own. But it’s gone before I can open my mouth to apologize.

“Good night,” she says, and turns around to enter her apartment before I can answer. I know it’s impossible, but the space she just occupied suddenly feels cold.

* * *

I’m sitting at our table—well, actually, I guess my table since I’ve claimed it and Zoey hasn’t come in yet to see my victory—when a pregnant belly comes straight into my view for the second time in two days.

I quickly glance around to see if there are any other tables available and when I realize there aren’t, begrudgingly look up to ask the owner of said belly if she would like my seat even though I haven’t been able to gloat to Zoey today.

Then I freeze.