Michaela
I flick on the kettle, already wondering if this is the best idea after the amount of accidents today. But I want a cup of tea and this is the only way to get it. I suppose I could go for a walk and see if one of the late-night places is open, but that feels like a lot of effort.
The door swings open and Essie comes in wearing an oversized shirt that I"m pretty sure belongs to the guy she claims she"s no longer seeing.
She takes one look at me and I step away from the kettle, knowing what her next comment would be if I didn"t.
"Tea or coffee?" she asks.
"Tea, please."
"Good. Sit." She points to the nearest empty chair and starts making us both a hot drink. "Now, are you going to tell me why you"re stomping around the kitchen?" she asks.
"I"m not stomping."
"Then why has Kr
