I spent Wednesday staring at the email between classes, not answering it. I spent Thursday doing the same thing, phone sitting face-up on my desk for once instead of hidden away, like leaving it out in the open might make the decision easier. Damn,It didn't.
"You're doing the thing," Harlow said Thursday night, looking up from her textbook. "The staring-at-your-phone-without-touching-it thing."
"I know."
"You've got until tomorrow." She said
"I know that too."
She closed her textbook, giving up on pretending she was studying, and came to sit on the edge of my bed instead.
"I think you should go." She said,
I looked up at her. "You've never said that before. You've always just kind of let me sit with it."
"Because it wasn't my decision to make. It still isn't. But you asked me not
