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And this is where it was drawn.

I watched her looking everything over.

I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. About what she said about me taking her home.

Was the margin really that small? If I’d just smiled more that day, been more assertive. Been less sad. Maybe she would have gotten in my car instead of his.

And would it have mattered?

Maybe she’d still be with Mike no matter who she went home with that night.

But I think what was bothering me was that I knew she wouldn’t.

Larissa and I had too much in common. We got along too well. I think I would have asked her out. I think she would have said yes. And I can’t imagine that date would have gone any other way than the right one.

That’s not to say I believed she had any feelings toward me now. She didn’t, we were friends. I just think it could have gone differently.

But it didn’t.

I shoved the thoughts from my mind.

“Chris?”

I looked at her.

“What’s your mom’s name?” she asked.

“Julia. Why?”

“I forgot to ask,” she said, looking back at the boxes. “Thank you for this. Again.”

I smiled. Then I said goodbye and drove to Mike’s.

He didn’t answer when I knocked. I was holding coffees and a bag of food and I had to set it all down on the step to get the spare key out of the planter and let myself in.

“Mike?”

No answer.

I hadn’t heard from him since the party last night. He wasn’t answering my calls or texts, which didn’t surprise me. Jesse messaged after they dropped him off and said he was throwing up but coherent enough to be left alone. He was probably sleeping it off.

I put the food on the bar counter and looked around. His wet clothes from last night were in a pile in the middle of the kitchen.

I picked them up and set them outside on the front step to take over to Donna’s to be washed and went to knock on his bedroom door.

“Mike…”

When he didn’t answer, I went in and flicked on the light.

He groaned, a blanket-covered lump in the bed.

“I’m here to check on you.”

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned, raising his head to squint at me. “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Shit,” he muttered.