“Until things start to happen.”

”What things?”

“Just life, sweetie.” She sighed, using her napkin and then putting over her plate, half her food still left there. “You’ll get it…when you’re older.” I rolled my eyes, mimicking her napkin-over-the-plate gesture. I’d lost my appetite. “Now you really sound like my mother.”

“What do you want me to say?” She stood, clearing our plates but leaving the wine glasses. “That I can give you a map?”

“I don’t want a map…” I stood, too, but didn’t follow her to the kitchen. Instead, I went the few steps into the living room, running my fingers over the edges of her furniture. “I just want to be…”

“Unusual?” she supplied, snagging both of our glasses like a professional waitress in one hand, the bottle of wine in the other.

“I don’t have the first clue how to be unusual.” I flopped down onto the couch in front of the fire.

“No?” Her voice was closer and softer now as she sat on the floor in front of me, her back resting against my crossed legs. “I think you know more than you let on.”

“I don’t.” Her hair was dry now, as was mine. It was silky against my bare legs, and I touched it. Her hair curled around my fingers and she sighed, leaning her head back, her eyes closed. I looked at her in the firelight. It cast shadows, making rippling patterns on her face, her arms, her breasts spilling slightly over her bra, turning her hair and skin a warm, tawny color.

“Sarah, you’re right. My life is as boring as they come. I was valedictorian of my high school class — I’m well on my way to graduating summa cum laude from college.

Tim and I went to the junior prom together and have been dating ever since. I got into a good sorority — not, you know, the one with old money, but still…My mother always tells everyone, ‘She’s such a good girl.’ And you know what? She’s right. I am a good girl.”