My first day on the job was a Tuesday. We were into July now, and the tourist season was in full swing, but weekdays were relatively quiet—perfect for training purposes. Not that there was much to learn. It was a gift shop, not an ER. But Jamie took me painstakingly through my duties: dusting merchandise, gift wrapping on request, using the till and the credit card machine. Had Freya not mentioned that I was intellectually superior to most seventeen-year-olds? I could have figured out these mundane tasks on my own.

I would work a couple of days a week and most weekends. Jamie chuckled as she gave me my schedule. “So I can have a bit of a social life.”

With Freya. I tasted the acid of jealousy, but I forced a smile. “Works for me. I don’t have a social life.”

“If you ever have plans with your friends or family, just let me know. We can always work something out.”

“I never have plans.”

“Well, you might one day.”

“I doubt it.”

Jamie gave me a quizzical look before changing the subject. “Let me show you the kitchen. It’s tiny, but it has a kettle and a microwave.” She smiled. “And I always keep cookies in the cupboard, so help yourself.”

The job was meant to be a reconnaissance mission, an opportunity to monitor Jamie and Freya’s friendship, but I kind of enjoyed it, too. The store was a visually pleasing space with whitewashed plank floors, high ceilings, natural wood countertops. Even when it was full of customers, it still felt serene somehow. Jamie had curated a great selection of products, I had to give her that. I spent a lot of time dusting or wiping shelves. It gave me a chance to handle these beautiful objects.

On my third shift, Freya came into the store. “Hey!” she said, her face lighting up to see me there. “How’s it going?”

“It’s good.” I smiled at her. “Thanks for telling Jamie to hire me.”

“I didn’t tell her to hire you. I told her that you’re smart and creative and a hard worker. She made the decision all by herself.”

Jamie emerged from the bathroom then, her purse in hand. Her expression was dour, but she brightened when she saw Freya. “Hi, you.”

“I see your shop assistant is working out well.”

“She’s been great,” Jamie said, and I blushed a little.

“Do you want to grab some lunch?” Freya asked.

“Sure,” I said at the precise moment Jamie said, “Sounds great.”

No one spoke for an awkward moment. And then, Jamie turned to me.

“Do you mind if I go this time? I’ve been eating hummus sandwiches behind the counter since I opened. I’m dying to sit down and eat a proper lunch.”

Bitch. She was possessive of Freya. Already. But I had known Freya longer, I knew her better. I had saved her from loneliness and depression. All the time we spent together in the studio, the night when we drank red wine and smoked a joint together, she hadn’t even mentioned Jamie.