Epilogue
“Hype! Don’t you have somewhere to be? Ten minutes ago?” Gabe hollered through the bathroom door.
“I’m almost done! Jeez! You’re, like, the worst friend ever,” she complained over the running water.
“Yeah, well, you’re like the worst guest ever. If you don’t like it, you can go somewhere else. The shop’s bathroom has a sink you could use.” Gabe stomped away before he could hear Hype’s answer, if she even bothered to give him one. He knew she knew he didn’t mean it, just like she knew he didn’t really mind letting her crash at his apartment once or twice a week. Well, mostly he didn’t mind. Except for when he wanted the apartment to himself for the weekend and she wouldn’t leave.
Hype slammed the bathroom door open—finally—and huffed out into the short corridor in a humid cloud
