yogurt and replay my very special time with Zach last night. I knew by the way my body tingled when
we kissed that he could make me feel really, really good. But I truly had no idea. I’m no stranger to
solo experimentation. But I wasn’t prepared for how different it would feel with him. Something
about the strength of his hands and the low rasp of his voice ramped everything up to a ten for me.
How can I ever give it up? Realistically, I know this can’t go on forever. I am nothing like the
women he’s used to, and at some point, he’s going to realize it. Maybe it would be smarter to end
things now, but I don’t want to. I want to ride it to the last possible stop, then jump off the train right
before the track runs out. The hard part is knowing when that is.
That heart I thought was gone when Birdie died has made a reappearance. It’s full of love for my
new friends, my new coworkers, and yes, for Zach. It’s going to hurt, a lot, at the end, I know. It’s
probably not only stupid but self-destructive to not try to protect it. But the idea of going back to the
isolated woman I used to be holds no appeal. Apparently, I’m an all-or-nothing person. I’m either
heartless or full of heart. No in-between.
“You’re one of those people,” Abigail says from the hallway. I screech and fumble the spoon,
spraying yogurt all over the front of my housecoat. “A morning person,” she continues, like I didn’t
just crap my pants. “People like you are annoying as hell.”
I stand frozen as she shuffles to the other side of the counter and drops onto a high stool. She
props her chin on her hand and closes her eyes. Her pink hair is sticking up at the back and she’s
wearing a faded Charlie Brown t-shirt and plaid pants.
“You snuck up on me,” I mutter, grabbing a cloth to wipe the front of my housecoat. She snickers,
pleased with herself, and gives me a wild grin. “Jerk.”
She laughs. It’s rusty, but the hint of familiarity soothes me. The woman we picked up at the bus
station last night was subdued, only coming to life long enough to hug me and hi-five Zach and Luis.
She fell facedown on the bed when we got home, clearly exhausted.
“Ah, the hair is…bright.” I say, afraid to just come out and ask how she’s doing after her
boyfriend cheated.
She snorts and peels one eye open. “Yeah. I went straight to the salon after I caught him. Maybe
not my brightest move, but I do like it. I always wanted to dye my hair, but Jason said I’m too old.”
“You’re my age,” I say, angry that someone would think thirty-four is old. “We’re in the prime of
our lives. Too old,” I grumble, carting my bowl around to sit next to her. “He sounds like a dick.”
