My boyfriend is a helium balloon, way above me, gently tugging at my hand. His head tosses in the breeze, craning whichever way the wind blows, his neck long and flimsy. I tell my friends how jealous this makes me—that he's looking at other girls—and they say I am being silly.
You are minding your own business.
"Do you want to know what I think?" Eddie asks and you think, no dear god—not him again.