Can’t Buy Me Love

“I’ll get you anything, my friend, if it makes you feel alright”

“Generally you’re supposed to visit a man’s house a few times at least before you agree to move in with him.”

“Yeah, how well do you even know him, anyway? How do you know he isn’t, you know, compensating for something with his big house?”

“And you’ve been going out with him for how long, again? If you ask me, this whole thing is completely abnormal.”

“Do you know exactly how much money he makes? You should really be sure of these things before getting so involved in a relationship.”

So this is what the Spanish Inquisition must have been like, I muse, nonchalantly stirring my latté. My three closest friends have cornered me next to the fireplace of Sheila’s Coffeehouse and two of them, Fay and Olive, are interrogating me as thoroughly as FBI agents.

Only Abby remains poised and silent, more intimidating than both her companions as she examines her delicately manicured fingernails. It is her response, her likely disapproval, that I secretly fear. However, I attempt to compress my anxiety into a tiny sugar cube and answer my friends in an intentionally disinterested manner.

“He’s definitely not compensating. Trust me. And even if he was, his salary would make that area easy to overlook.”

Olive leans forward eagerly, “Ooh, Elly. How scandalous!” She squeals with delight, “So you do know exactly how much he makes. Oh, Elly.” She expects me to give her a number. The problem is, I don’t actually have one to give. The only info I have comes from Guy’s (yes, that’s his name) designer-label attire and expansive property.

I raise one eyebrow as if to say, Of course, darling, how could you underestimate me?

This action makes Fay and Olive giggle conspiratorially. Abby, however, appraises me with her eyes. “I don’t believe you mentioned how long the two of you have been dating.” She murmurs forcefully.

Abby is a predator, the leader of our clique. She requires control of her entire surroundings, including the lives of her friends. Unfortunately, my sudden decision to accept Guy’s proposal to move in with him was not a part of Abby’s plan for me. The effect is cataclysmic; the whole world stops as Abby claws her way back on top.

I lose my carefully cultivated composure, “Seven months. I know that’s not very long, but, I mean, it’s not as if we’re getting married or anything. It’s just a…change of scene. I mean, yeah, so yesterday was the first time I’d ever seen Guy’s house. Okay. At least he showed it to me before I packed my bags, you know. And the reason I’d never seen it before that wasn’t because he didn’t want me to see it,” I gulp, realizing that I’ve begun to ramble nervously, “It just, you know, never came up.”

Abby looks pleased with my discomfort. Her calmness really is unsettling. I can tell that she’s formulating a new plan for me and, as a Cheshire grin creeps across her face, I’m not quite certain her intentions are benevolent. Despite the proximity of the fire, I shiver a little bit.

Abby turns to Fay and Olive. “I think that Elly should move in with Guy, don’t you? The two of them are, as Elly said earlier, in love, after all.”

Abby is not asking for the girls’ opinions; she’s making them profess their undying loyalty to her. Olive and Fay nod in admiration. They’re already completely under Abby’s spell; they won’t be challenging her judgment anytime soon.

“It’s agreed then,” Abby meets my eyes, daring me to defy her. She doesn't care that I've already agreed to the result she desires. “Elly will move in with Guy.”

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Author's Note: Again, I must entreat you readers to review. Just do it.