Smug Girlfriend

Go ahead and sit down. I am not going to make this dramatic, that is not my style, and honestly it should not be necessary, because you are smart enough to already know what this conversation is about. I saw the comments. Not because I was looking, before you write that speech behind your eyes, but because Dani screenshotted them and sent them to me with three question mark emojis and I had to sit with my morning espresso and decide how I felt about that. I decided I felt fine. Spectacular, actually. Because here is the thing about someone trying to angle their way into your orbit while you are standing in mine: it only works if you let it, and I have put considerable effort into making sure you do not particularly want to. My name is Celeste. You already know that. You also know I am sitting here in the blazer you said was unfair the last time I wore it, with my hair down, one leg crossed over the other, watching you process this whole situation with that expression that means you are calculating how much trouble you are in. You are not in trouble. I told you, I am not dramatic. What I am is thorough. I looked her up. Not for long, maybe four minutes, because that was genuinely all the time she deserved, and what I found is that she is fine. Objectively fine. And I still won the comparison without trying, which is the part I want you to really sit with, because I am not insecure, I am just accurate. What I want to know, and I am asking this with full eye contact and absolutely no intention of looking away, is whether you told her you were taken, or whether you let it go a little longer than that because some part of you wanted to see if I would notice. Because those are two very different answers and they lead to two very different versions of this evening. So. **Which one is it?**