Yes, how could I forget?

I looked at Helen, who bit her lower lip, waiting for my answer.

Acting surprised all the time was surprisingly exhausting. And, to be frank, I felt really bored doing so already. So, instead, this time, I simply chose not to.

She said so herself—she wanted me back. And, considering my future knowledge as well as everything I could remember from the days we spent together, this actually seemed feasible.

"You know, I was right in calling you a kooky girl back then," I couldn't help myself.

"Well, I'm sorry that my 'moment of fleeting passion', as my grandpa called it, toward a certain bad boy never went away." Accurately reading my meaning, my no-longer-ex-girlfriend smiled.

"Are you certain you won't regret this, though?" I had to ask this question.

"Not at all," she said, shaking her head. "But I am one hundred percent sure that I would regret not taking the chance."

"Why would you?" I felt curious about her thoughts.

"Do I really have to say this?" She tilted her head a bit.

"I would certainly love to hear you say it." I smiled back.

Helen responded with a teasing one of her own. It looks like she learned a few new tricks while we were apart. I think this was the main reason she always interested me so much.

Helen Smith wore about as many masks as I did.

To name a few: young lady, spoiled princess, intelligent heiress of a big family—I had a lot of fun stripping them all down to the core and breaking that outer shell to reach the kooky girl underneath.

"Well, you wanted to hear the truth; here you go," she parroted my earlier words in a teasing tone. "I spent the last year actively trying to forget you. And failed to do so completely and utterly. Also, my grandpa made me go on quite a number of dates, trying, in his own way, his best to help me as usual."

"He really dislikes me that much, ain't he?" I chuckled.

"Over the course of a year, I had to meet at least one guy a week. Sometimes two. Goodness gracious, the only thing it helped me with was understanding how much I actually missed you." Helen continued, ignoring my passing remark. "Same words, same smiles; they even dressed and acted the same way. They bored me to death, yet I had to stay until the end of the evening every time out of politeness. Urk."

"I know the feeling," I nodded.

Gigolo's pick-up macro wouldn't be so optimized otherwise.

"And then Grandpa dragged me to an island. I really can't thank him enough for doing so, but, my gosh, I had nothing to do there but to think about our relationship all day long." She took another pause to drink some of her tea.

Her words didn't sound healthy to my ears, but who was I to complain?

"And so I came to a surprising conclusion. Oh, I need a sign to move on; anything would work. I was thinking about sending you one last message to see if you would reply. Or, at the very least, read it." Which she most likely did in the first run.

"And if I didn't?" I had to ask this one as well.

"Hm, I would drown myself in work again. Maybe going on more dates to appease Grandpa. Perhaps I would buy a dog and die alone, eh?" she quoted.

Helen looked a bit down. So Bella was right; I am indeed quite a bastard.

"Well, I actually got my sign." She switched topics, trying to sound upbeat. I noticed a bit of mischief in her eyes, though. Here goes my guilty conscience, ha. "You know. Everything I thought about, all of those conclusions and aspirations, went away just like this as soon as you said my name."

"Oh, really?" I teased.

"As if you didn't notice, you overly sharp bastard." Helen said it with a hint of blame in her tone.

"As if you couldn't fake it on purpose just to mislead me, you sly bitch." I responded in kind.

"I was too busy thinking, 'I want him back', on repeat this whole time." Her smile turned a bit seductive. "My heart almost stopped when you rejected me, you know?"

"Ugh, my bad, but, you know, I had to make sure." I apologized.

"I will forgive you after you take me on that date you promised me," she giggled in response.

I shrugged, finishing my coffee. I had no reason to refuse now.

"But, first, I want you to finish the story." I said, putting the cup down. Should I order something else?

"And I hoped I distracted you enough," replied Helen with another foxy smile. "Well, it's very embarrassing to say it out loud, especially knowing that you should've already gotten to the answer."

"I still want to hear it out of your mouth," I confirmed.

"Well, it's really that simple. I had two ways forward. I could either feel jealous with you by my side or do the same, but all alone. The answer was obvious enough to me." She finished with a brilliant smile.

***

Over the course of our extended conversation, the late breakfast turned into an early lunch.

I was listening to Helen's report about her last year's achievements. I could easily see, and she didn't make much effort to hide anyway, that she was trying to impress me. Or, at the very least, to get some praise out of me.

Which I did, since she honestly did a good job. As far as I could judge, of course.

Somewhere along the way, my mind drifted away a bit as I lost the thread of her storytelling amidst the technical details of the business side of things.

Yet, I still wasn't bored.

Was it because I could feel the passion that Helen felt for all the things she described? Or solely because of who was talking? Something else? A mix?

How weird.

A series of pings from the messenger brought me back from my reverie.

Counter Girl: [Sorry it took so long to reply.]

Counter Girl: [Things are all kind of hectic here.]

Counter Girl: [Some people just have no chill.]

Counter Girl: [Funeral is yet to happen, but they're already fighting over inheritance.]

Counter Girl: [Can you imagine?]

Counter Girl: [Oof.]

Counter Girl: [Anyway, sorry once again.]

Counter Girl: [I just needed to let some steam out.]

Counter Girl: [How much trouble did you end up causing yesterday?]

I looked at my phone screen, genuinely lost in how I should react to this.

"Who is it?" I heard Helen's voice.

"Claire." I let her know.

I turned the phone around, so Helen could read it herself.

"Counter Girl?" A reasonable question.

"I met her in the local convenience store, and that nickname just ended up sticking in my head." A short explanation.

"I assume she knows about your arrangement?" Something in Helen's tone felt off.

"Yep." I chose to ignore it, though.

"Will you tell her about me as well?" Same tone.

I paused for a moment as my mind built a quick logic chain. Having a friend like Helen could very well leave some insecurities in anyone's mind.

Now that I'm thinking about it, this actually explained quite a bit of the strangeness of Koala Girl's actions.

Instead of answering her, I extended the hand with the phone in it and took a selfie with both of us in the frame. Helen looked a bit surprised by my actions.

Me: [met your 'pretty friend']

I finished typing the caption and sent it.

"Why?" I heard Helen's question.

"Why not?" I replied.

My phone pinged again.

Counter Girl: [Oh!]

Counter Girl: [She returned a week earlier.]

Counter Girl: [She looks a bit weird in that photo.]

Counter Girl: [Um, you two didn't fight for some reason, right?]

I showed messages to Helen.

"Why would she think that we would fight?" She asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Because, obviously, I would at least try to hit on her pretty friend." And I think I would, even if it was not her but someone close to the same level.

"Of course you would." She nodded sagely. "Will you tell her the rest?"

"Yep." I repeated my earlier answer.

Me: [Helen is simply surprised]

Me: [not every day you meet your ex, who is now dating your best friend]

And sent again.

A moment later, my phone started ringing with an incoming call.

"Give the phone to her," Claire said without even greeting me.

"I am also happy to hear your voice, Claire." I joked, but did as I was told.

"Helen, if you try to scare him away, I will be so very crass with you!" The Counter Girl was speaking loud enough for me to hear.

"And I'm also glad to hear your voice, bestie." Helen had mischief in her eyes. "But you have nothing to fear. I'm not planning to scare him away."

"Really?" I had to strain my ears to hear this one.

"Of course. Don't you think you should be worrying that I will steal him from you, though?" Oh, this was a good one.

"Eh?!" A surprised exclamation followed from the other side of the line.

"I'm joking. For the most part. I feel like he will be the one crass with me if I try to scare you away." Helen winked at me. The dare.

"Ah, um, please don't joke like that. My heart almost stopped here." This one was almost inaudible.

"Well, darling has this effect on people." Whatever she meant by this. "Anyway, I heard about the situation and, well, decided to join as well."

The silence from the other side of the phone line said it all. I could almost picture how utterly lost Claire must've felt right about now.

"Why would you?" Ah, this one was very loud indeed.

A short pause fell as Helen looked straight into my eyes. There was a very strange look in her eyes.

"Because I love him, of course." She stated it as a matter of fact.

A long-forgotten memory surfaced in my head. Long before, I heard similar words from Olivia.

'I don't care how many women you have. I want to be with you.'

Ah, right. After so many years of substance abuse and head traumas, as well as the general level of insanity that was my life, one fact about my ex-girlfriend was glossed over in my recollection of her.

I met her passionate gaze and fought back the chill crawling down my spine. Yes, how could I forget?

Hidden beneath layers upon layers of her outer shell, Helen Smith was one hell of a crazy woman.