Chapter 29: And the Sky’s Not There

Look, here’s the thing: I’m an *****.

Here’s another thing: Bette’s an *****.

I’m inclined to believe that based on the fact that we’re both *****, we belong together. But whatever. I admitted that I was an ***** only twenty minutes after Bette had slammed the door in my face. I was right. I had every right to say what I had said, I knew this. But I was still an *****. I should’ve known better. This was just how Bette was.

For the next week, my phone calls were nothing but attempts to tell her that I felt I was an ***** and that since she was an *****, too, she might as well forgive me. I don’t know how well the second part of that would go over, though, especially since she refused to return my calls.

Fine, I thought. I knew Bette. I knew where she lived, worked, and got her coffee. I loitered around those places (in an entirely non-stalkery way) and tried to get her to talk to me, but she seemed pretty determined to silent treatment me to death, so I gave up after the first few tries.

A visit to The Planet one day, though, revealed that Bette and Tina were on better terms than Bette and I were, because they were having coffee. So yay for that.

(I was being sarcastic.)

Marina was cool, though, and had the dish every time I came by. “She appears to be very busy with work,” she told me one morning. “So that might be why she doesn’t return your calls.”

“Hmm,” I said, rubbing my chin, “could be. Would that explain why she told Spencer she moved to Antarctica, though?”

“No.”

“Drat. She must be avoiding me.”

Marina laughed. “I think so. I will refuse her service until she talks.”

“That’s good,” I joked. “You be bad cop, I’ll be good cop.”

Even with Marina keeping me updated on Bette’s whereabouts and well-being, I was still pretty upset with her not talking to me. Not as upset as you’d think, I guess, because I was pretty used to this sort of behavior with Bette. It was sort of our thing to argue with one another and then not talk for a long time.