Ethan seems to be walking towards me slowly, keeping his distance. I see the red mark on his cheek where I punched him and laugh to myself. The waiter comes up to me to take my order. I’m craving—

“Fish sticks, with a side french dressing. Oh, and a salad, and cover that with mayonnaise,” I order. She gives me an awkward stare. I know I ordered right, what is she waiting for? Ethan finally gets to me, as the waiter walks away and takes a seat.

“I can explain Stacie,” he says.

“I don’t really care, Ethan,” I say automatically.

“I only did it because I thought that you’d give up being a prostitute,” he goes on.

“I knew it! I knew you didn’t like that…” I say childishly.

“Stacie, what is wrong with you? I’m kind of glad, but shouldn’t you be bursting with anger?”

“Do you want me to bitch at you? Cause I’ll fucking bitch. God, cant you see I’m obviously taking it lightly.”

“Sure you’re okay? Is it the shock?”

“Nope. I’m good,” I say cheerfully, “oh, my order is here!”

The fuck is going on?