Code of Ethics

The flat was so cold and empty. And dark, which was strange. Marie had typically been the kind of person to let the rare London sunshine pour through the windows, the almost sheer curtains shoved to the sides of the walls and the glass thrown open to let the sweet breeze circulate through the somewhat stale rooms.

But the pretty, girly curtains had been replaced by daunting black ones, pulled over the windows so precisely that not a sliver of light could wedge through. I wanted to stare and analyze what, exactly, had made Marie change her tune so much, but I knew my time was limited, and wasting precious seconds worrying about someone who no longer mattered was unnecessary.

So I made my way into my old bedroom, the pile of my boxes in my hands immediately dropping on the floor as I rushed to get things done. I gathered the articles of clothing I hadn’t taken the first time I fled, the couple of trinkets I owned, and various other small things. And once those few boxes were brought down to the pick-up truck I’d borrowed from one of the girls at the club, I tackled the furniture.

The bedside table was easy enough. Being empty, I just carried it downstairs and put it in the truck. Simple.

But the bed was more cumbersome, and I had no idea how I was going to carry the bureau by myself. Even if I took out the drawers and managed, somehow, to slide the frame down the stairs, I still wouldn’t be able to lift it into the bed of the truck.

“Do you need help?”

I turned to find a ghost of a girl standing a few feet away. Her eyes were sunken, somehow, underlined with thick bags that looked so out-of-place on her young face, and her figure had shrunken somewhat considerably. How was it possible that someone could look so disastrous in only a couple weeks’ time?

“Marie?” I questioned, almost doubting the girl was, indeed, her. “I thought you wanted me to do this when you were in class.”

“I skipped.” She swallowed and shook her head. “And I don’t look like shit because of you, in case you were wondering. Other things have been going on. Stuff you didn’t know about.”

Which would explain why she freaked out so much when she found out the truth. I never stopped to consider that maybe, possibly, there were other variables in the equation that she hadn’t wanted to share with me. “Okay.”

And together, silently, with nothing but a somewhat uneasy truce between us, we took the bed apart and carried it down piece by light piece. And then we took out the drawers from the bureau, still not talking, and carried those down.

“Easy,” I mumbled without thinking as we started down the steps. I’d offered to be at the top of the stairs as she walked backwards so that I had to deal with the most weight. She didn’t look like she could have handled much weight, really.

Her eyes flashed to mine. “I will be,” she responded, her voice soft as she took slow steps to make sure her footfalls weren’t misplaced.

And then the bureau frame was in the truck, with barely any issues, and we were facing each other awkwardly.

“Thanks for the help,” I granted, giving her the smallest, most pathetic of smiles. “I appreciate it.”

She shrugged and slipped her thin fingers into the pockets of her jeans. “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I knew I was a bitch to you, and I deserve you moving out. But I feel really awful about the whole thing, and I hoped that I proved that to you by telling Harry where you could be.”

“That was nice of you.” I wanted to forgive her, and maybe I did forgive her, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be her friend anymore. A rift had arisen between the two of us that was too expansive to cross, and I didn’t really have the desire to try. “It’s all good, okay?”

She looked relieved and took a step back. “So I guess I’ll see you around.”

I nodded shortly and climbed into the driver’s seat, revving the engine and barely looking before pulling away from the curb and into the street.

Things hadn’t gone the way she planned, I knew. She wanted me to ask what else had happened to her, probably so the two of us could have a bonding session that would end with me staying with her anyway. She wanted me to say that everything was going to peachy keen in the end, that whatever she was going through, it would end.

Which was all true, of course. Every hardship had an end, no matter how far in the distance it seemed. That was one of the things that kept most humans optimistic enough to keep trudging through life, no matter how bleak and shitty their situations get.

But I couldn’t be that for her. She had other friends that she should confide in, ones that she wasn’t so hot-and-cold with, ones that she hadn’t betrayed or thrown out like last week’s smelling rubbish. Maybe it made me a bitch, that I wouldn’t change my mind about her, even though she was in such a hard place, but I didn’t care.

She’d figure it out. I was sure of it.

As I pulled to a stop light, my phone buzzed in the seat next to me, so I reached over and picked it up.

I’m at your house so don’t freak out when you walk in and see me on your living room floor hahaha

Someone beeped behind me, a sign of complete impatience that I hadn’t stepped on the gas the second the light turned green, and I immediately shot them a dirty look in my rearview mirror. Maybe I shouldn’t have been looking at my phone while I was driving, but there was no need to be in that much of a hurry.

And when I made it to my flat, carrying one of my many boxes, I saw that Harry was, indeed, sitting in the middle of my living room floor, cross-legged, typing away at his phone.

“Did you come to help?” I chuckled, feeling my heart skip with joy.

“Of course. Just show me the way, little lady.”

I tried to roll my eyes, but I ended up giggling instead. “Follow me, if you please, kind sir.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed the side of my head. “I’d be so honored.”