Eight
Brooklyn
My phone dings next to my bed.
I’ve had it plastered next to me in case my family gets the urge to call me.
I turn it over and see the string of messages my friend Reagan left me on Doomsday and every day since.
Reagan: Call me.
Reagan: I knew he was an asshole.
Reagan: I hope you’re okay.
Reagan: Talked to Juno, if you need me, you know where I am.
Reagan: Juno says you’re going on your honeymoon.
Reagan: Have fun and call me when you get back.
Reagan: Oh s**t, you should see the new bellhop. Damn girl.
Reagan: Oh, I just found out, he’s the new manager from that swanky hotel chain that bought us.
Reagan: He has to learn every position in the company.
Reagan: I might end up getting him tangled in the sheets when I show him how to make a bed. ;)
Reagan: I miss
