Elation

Sitting in her living room, my eyes flutter thoughtlessly through the pages of one of the many glossy magazines dotted around the house. She paints her toe nails, brow furrowed in concentration ensuring each little piggy is as perfectly polished as the last. Without looking up, she muses, "he's been really off with me lately. I text him a couple times today with no response - he usually replies straight away..."
I look up briefly to check whether her eyes have risen from her perilous task, and lower mine once again when I realise they haven't. Of course it's my fault that he's been 'off' with her, but she can't be too bothered.
"I might try calling him later," her forehead creases into slight frustration as a spot of the red varnish lands on her toe rather than the nail.
"Don't do that!" She looks up now, bemused. I continue, "well, if he's playing hard-to-get, you don't want to be too easy."
"I suppose you're right," she agrees, screwing the top back onto the half-empty nail varnish bottle, "he'll need me before I need him."
"Exactly," I smile and nod my head slightly. If I could keep this up perhaps I'd never have to think of them together again.
Her phone flashes and this time she notices, picks it up and grins elatedly. Time for plan B - whatever that is.