Page 1 of Shady

It’s her. Same brown hair. Same pointed nose. Same full, pouty lips. I remember them perfectly. Only I had to do a double take when I spotted her in the throng of kids at a dirt track. When I asked the clerk at the gas station if he knew her, he laughed and told me I’d find her at The Depot. He said it like it was common knowledge. I googled The Depot and, to my surprise, found it was the local drag track. It didn’t make sense to me then. It still doesn’t now as I stare at her but not her. Her hair isn’t perfectly polished; actually it’s a curly mess on top of her head. Before, she would’ve never been caught without silky straight locks. Her clothes are skintight; I can see every curve of her breasts, waist, and ass. She’s definitely not the prim and proper girl I remember. She’s smoking a cigarette as she speaks to a kid, and she looks rough around the edges. I can’t figure out her role in this, but she seems to run the show.

“He’s up at the hospital. She’s still not awake yet,” she says to the kid. “Poor guy hasn’t left her side.”

I lurk in the shadows as I watch. I wasn’t planning on actually finding her tonight, but now that I have, I just need a moment to take her in, whoever she is now; I don’t know this version of her. I’ve been looking for her for the last 5 years. When the girl wants to disappear, she does it well.

That was her goal, I assume. But it helped that no one really went looking for her—she didn’t exactly leave on the best terms. I wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to go back.