Montreal, Canada, Saturday Morning

Yesterday had been horrible. After the call Natalie never should have picked up, she'd wanted to do nothing more than just curl up in a ball on her bed and just cry with frustration.

So naturally she'd gone into high repression mode and powered on through dinner with her parents and other mundane things. Now, after a poorly slept night, she had stopped seething internally at Brid, though. Mostly.

Not enough to not think her calling Sam now wouldn't be considered some stupid victory by the other girl.

But whatever. It wasn't Brid's relationship. And now that Peter had told Natalie (however succinctly, and even if she didn't have friends to hug her and make threatening phonecalls on her behalf, at least she had people to depend on with the small things) that the coast was clear to go back to Fandom, it seemed like a good time to brace herself, pick up her phone, and call Sam.

[ooc: NFB, again mainly for that guy she's calling, but open for other texts/calls too, should there be any.]