She finds a way to make it up to that pig

That night, I lay in bed staring at the cracked ceiling, listening to the murmur of voices coming from either bedroom. I couldn’t make out the words, only the cadence, but from Wiley’s nasal sneer, Sarah’s gentle corrections, I quickly realize they were on the phone together. Likely the only reason they were not out here talking is that Sarah was to angry at me to look me in the eyes.

Wiley “Sara-bear, I have no luck with girls”

Sarah laughs “Tell me something I don’t know”

Wiley “Hay… I am really trying here. Everyone says once you get money, women will be all over you. Yes, they come, but they take my money and leave before I even get them in bed. I NEED TO GET LAYED SO BAD, I am just about ready to hire a street worker to do it!”

Sarah “Ah… Wiley don’t do that, they will take advantage of you even worse than the other girls.”

Wiley Whimpers “Then I just don’t know what I am doing wrong.”

The house goes silent for a second before Sarah speaks up “ I still owe you one, so How about this, you take me out on a ‘training’ date, And I’ll walk you through what to do.”

I instantly take out my phone and text Sarah “hell no!”

Sarah quickly texted back “If you didn’t want me to help my friend you should have held your temper.”

I hear Wiley's voice screech “Really you will do that for me!” as I text Sarah back “That perverted is going to try to pull something on you!”

Sarah texts “If you are so worried he might try something tag alone, from a distance, because it’s happening, whether you like it or not!” as I hear her voice say, “Yes of course.”

I text back “Fine I will, but if he tries to so much as kiss you, I’ll knock his teeth out.”

Sarah texts back “Mind your temper or else I’ll end up owing him even more ;). Now good night.”

The following day, At work, I didn’t get anything done. I just sat at my desk, rewriting the same email over and over again. The red notice taped to the front of the building—“Henderson Inc. has acquired this facility, effective immediately”—mocked me every time I looked up. My whole life, I’d coasted on the promise that I’d inherit something. A job, a future, a purpose. Now, even that was slipping away.

At lunch, I checked my phone. Nothing from Sarah. Just a string of texts from old friends, all variations on the same theme: “Dude, did you hear about the buyout? Wild.” I deleted them without responding.

By the time I got home, Sarah was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on mascara. She wore a black top I didn’t recognize and jeans that looked like they’d been vacuum-sealed to her skin.

“You look nice,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.

She gave a quick, **** smile. “Thanks.”

I hovered in the doorway, hands jammed in my pockets. “Do you have to do this?”

She put the mascara brush down and turned to face me, her eyes bright and hard as diamonds. “He’s my friend, Liam. He’s going through a lot. And if you hadn’t nearly choked him out on our front lawn, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Fine…” I said, and turned away before she could see the look on my face.

I watched from the window as Wiley pulled up in his shiny black Volvo. He stepped out, slicked his greasy hair back, and rang the doorbell. Wiley’s voice echoed down the hall, all false cheer and feigned humility. “Hey, Sarah! Hope I’m not too early.”

She met him at the door, gave him a little half-smile, and let him in as she whisper, “Nope when you on a date, earlier is always better for the boy.”. He grinned at her outfit, made a joke I couldn’t quite hear, and then they left together, her laughter trailing behind them like a ribbon.

I followed his nice Volvo in my broken-down car.

They drove across town in Wiley’s shiny black Volvo, the kind of car he would have mocked as “overcompensating” a year ago. They parked near the plaza, on the side of the new fusion restaurant that had opened last month. I watched them walk inside, Sarah’s stride purposeful, Wiley’s gait a little too bouncey. Before I sunk in and took a corner both just close enough so that I could listen in.

Wiley ordered a cocktail, probably something sweet and neon, and Sarah went for water with lemon. They talked for a while, Wiley gesturing so broadly he nearly knocked over his glass twice. Sarah leaned in, and asked “how’s was your day?”

Wiley “Not good, I was in meetings the last half of the with the manager of the company, I just bought, they all want to fire one guy for being worthless and lazy, but it will upset a friend of mine if I let them do it.”

Sarah giggles a bit before saying “ok that's the first thing you need to work on. When first meeting a girl, you want to keep everything positive. If you speak negatively, they’ll have a negative opinion of you.”

Wiley “Oh ok.”

I watch as their date finishes up at the restaurant, the two of them lingering over the uneaten remains of Wiley’s second dessert. From my vantage across the parking lot, the din of the dinner crowd is just a silent pantomime of laughter and sparkling glasses, an endless carousel of would-be lovers and ex-lovers and all the ambiguous categories in between. Wiley’s hand reaches across the table and lands palm-up, inviting, **** for a response. It’s a clumsy gesture, but Sarah doesn’t laugh at it or pull away. Instead, she places her fingers in his, gives him a gentle squeeze, and for a second it looks like she might even be enjoying herself.

The check comes. Wiley insists on paying, making a big show of it by dramatically patting down each of his pockets before “discovering” the company credit card like it’s a magic trick. Sarah rolls her eyes but lets him have his moment. He gets up from the table and goes around to pull out her chair—too eagerly, almost knocking her in the chin with the backrest. She finds this genuinely funny, doubles over in laughter, and Wiley stands there grinning like he’s just been knighted.

I watch them leave the restaurant, Wiley’s hand hovering at the small of Sarah’s back. She doesn’t object. They pause outside in the glow of the valet sign, their breath visible in the cold. Wiley says something and gestures at the sky, and Sarah tilts her head, observant, letting him talk. I try to imagine her thoughts, whether she is bored or entertained, whether she’s pretending to be invested for my sake, or for his. But from where I sit, they might as well be on another planet.

I trail them in my car all the way back to our place.

I park directly behind them in the driveway and watch as Wiley gets out first, jogs around to open Sarah’s door, and then walks her up to the porch like it’s prom night. He says something, shrugs. There is a nervous pause. Then, Wiley leans in for a hug—a big, awkward, two-armed embrace that lasts a beat too long.

That should have been it. But then I watch him lean in for a kiss and I jump out my car door. “Fucking hell no! That ain't happening!”

Sarah stumps her foot “Liam, watch your anger!”

“Bullshit! Watch my anger, I told you I was going to knock his fucking teeth out if he tried kissing you. Now come here you fucking pig.”

Sarah stepped between me and him “Liam how is he supposed to know what to do if he doesn’t practice.”

”I don’t care if he doesn’t know what to do, he is not kissing.”

Wiley speaks up from behind Sarah “It’s ok Sarah-bear.”

Sarah turns to him “No, it’s not, my boyfriend just ruined another thing, and now I owe you for that too.”

That night she tells me since I ruin this date, she was going to have another one with him tomorrow, and this time I wasn’t allowed to follow, so I couldn’t ruin it again. Before she told me to sleep on the sofa