I listened to the traffic on the street outside our building, various honks and purring engines could be faintly heard. “Yes,” I replied, this time my voice stronger.

“Great. What happened down there?”

I let everything spill. I told Shelby everything. About why I was in Texas. About my fears about food.

About Oakley.

“So what if you fucked him? You’re an intern. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is if I want a good letter of recommendation.”

“You and I both know that your father is going to hire you. You honestly don’t even need to finish your degree. He’s got that privileged nepotism process,” she assured me, snorting.

“But I want to earn it,” I stammered.

“Do you? Because it seems like you really just want to prove you’re perfect. I don’t think it was ever about this internship.”

I cradled my head in my hands. Was she right? Was that what all of this was about? I really needed to call my psychic for a tarot reading.

My phone buzzed, and I saw Oakley’s name. Without thinking, I picked up my phone and threw it across the room, not caring if it was completely destroyed. I didn’t need it, and I didn’t need Oakley either. Shelby looked at me, a little surprised, but mostly calm.

“Amanda?” she asked, going back to her more cautious approach. “It’s okay. You are going to be okay.” She came and sat on the floor right in front of me in what I now knew was the lotus pose, her legs crossed with her toes on her thighs.

“Take a deep breath with me,” she said when I didn’t respond. “Breathe in through your nose and breathe out slowly through your mouth.”

I followed along with her breathing exercises, and she led me through some basic stretching poses until I did actually start to feel better. Or at least more grounded. I couldn’t change what I did in California, and I couldn’t change what happened last night. The only thing I could change is how I react to it. I learned that from my favorite manifestation video.

“Thank you for being there for me, Shelby,” I said, my heart absolutely overflowing with love for her. One minute I was raging, the next I was giggling, and now I was about to start ugly crying over how much I loved my roommate. Emotional trauma is weird. Thank Zeus Shelby was so understanding, and also the only one who was seeing me like this.

Just as I was getting a handle on myself enough to go check the damage I did to my phone, there was a knock on the door. It started off slowly, but became louder and more insistent. Then I heard Oakley’s voice.

“Amanda! Amanda are you home?” he shouted.