After a slow hour or so working and lazily thinking about Effy, you're finally done with your shift and can fold up your apron and walk the few blocks home. It's late and the streetlights illuminate your way, guiding you as you walk on autopilot, your mind concerned with things more important than the route home. Effy. It's almost as if your brain wants to fall into the trap of over-analyzing her words and actions, after all, isn't that what most of your college career consisted of? It's a habit. You're not sure if you want to take it up again. You're not sure if you really have any choice in the matter. But you know you want to see her again. Even just for the banter really - you've never met anyone who could keep up as well as Effy did and you don't think you ever will.

But it's back to work again early in the morning, and you can't say you're that disappointed every time the door swings open and it isn't Effy walking through. The truth is that you're bored. She's simply a form of entertainment. And you can find entertainment in other ways, it's no big deal. You're not as easily enchanted as every other stupid boy who fell for Effy as simply as a domino knocked down by the wind.

So you stand and chat and ring things up and basically just watch as the little red hand races around the clock, tortuously ticking the minutes away. Finally, you're on break and you head out back, settle yourself on a milk crate, lean against the chipped away brick wall. Since you can't exactly get a fix of Effy you settle on the next best thing and light up a cigarette. It's a bad habit you know, one you've condemned before, but the issue is that you thought you'd try it, and then trying it turned it trying it every night and now that you're hooked there's no going back. It calms you and sort of slows time down to think about things properly - if there were no actual benefits you'd've been kicking the habit long ago. You're not deluded enough to think smoking throws a shroud of mystery over you like it does Effy but you enjoy your fags for yourself and that's good enough. You tip back your head and close your eyes and you can almost pretend it's a spliff. Those were the days. As you open your eyes, you almost think your cigarette's not a cigarette after all because you're clearly hallucinating. Because there's Effy leaning against your same wall, effortlessly seductive in a way you've long given up mastering. But she's real.

When the shock fades and you're able to register other emotions you turn to her and say, "Jesus Christ, trying to scare me to death?"

To which she replies, "No. Just come 'round for a fag."

"Really? You just thought right here was the perfect spot? What a coincidence."

"Yeah why not really? Two for the price of one - a fag and the brilliant Katie Fitch."

"Ahh so you admit you're seeking me out"

"Been a bit bored, figured I'd come by and see how you're living"

"Aren't you always bored, Ef?"

This draws a smirk and a bark of laugh out of Effy as she replies, "Sure, but this was a whole new extreme. Just had to come and live vicariously through your thrilling life."

Her comment reels you back a little as you realize how dull the past week or so has been. And yet you've been content. How easily you have settled for this life. So you look at Effy right in the eyes and state, "I have to go back to work," brush past her as you head back in through the door. But then she grabs your arm at the last moment and you're shocked by the action and by how warm her hand is - you always expected them to be ice cold. And then she's handing you a piece of paper, saying, "Call me some time, all right? I could use a bit more Fitch in my life."

You watch her retreating form as your brain churns, wondering how things have changed so much that suddenly it's Effy courting you instead of the other way around.