I clicked my tongue in frustration and clenched my bag strap, fingernails digging into my palm. The pain gave me an odd sense of comfort.

Suddenly, Atlas’s phone rang. He looked at me and answered, "Yeah?"

A woman's voice said, "Atlas, where are you?"

"I'm busy," he replied coldly.

"Do you want to come out? Maybe you can come to my place?" The woman's voice turned tender.

"Another time. I'm busy right now," Atlas responded and hung up.

I felt awkward and said, "Mr. Atlas, you seem busy. I'