Chapter Six

Icouldn”t wait to get home and click okay. My heart beat frantically and I worried that I”d violated Clementine”s phone. Should I have been looking through it like that? Did she intend for me to see those photos and the QR code? It didn”t seem right, and yet I couldn”t stop thinking about it. Seeing her in the pictures a million miles away on another continent seemed strange to me as well. The images played over and over in my mind and suddenly I wondered who snapped them to begin with. Who was she with in Lisbon? Was it her mother? Another family member? Someone else?

Whatever.

I needed to stop ruminating.

After returning to the precinct to finish out the day and review the results generated by Bryant, I didn”t get home until well after eight. A pizza sat on the kitchen counter, still lukewarm, surrounded by empty dishes filled with crusts and sauce. Two beers accompanied glasses of iced tea with rims coated in condensation from the melted ice.

I stole a slice, biting into it just as the sounds of Tatiana”s moans filled the space we shared. I chuckled around my food and glanced at the loft space above us that she called her room. One flight of stairs led up there, but there weren”t any walls to muffle the sound. Reagan usually shared the space with her, but sans child, sexuality liberated itself. My room sat off the large living room, across from the art-filled area where Tati worked each day. From the doorway of my room, I caught a glimpse of her shadow as it bounced above the bed. I closed my eyes, retreating to my room blindly. Hearing it was one thing, seeing my two besties bumping uglies was another.

I closed the door behind me, which did little to muffle the sounds, then tossed myself on the twin bed. In the small, closet-sized space cluttered with band posters and clothes, I leaned against the cold brick wall at the head of my bed and whipped out my phone. Sometimes I liked the smallness of my room. It wrapped around me the same way it had a decade ago when we decided to rent together. Tati”s loft space wasn”t much bigger. The only thing that fit was her mattress and a small lamp.

The window at the foot of my bed allowed the gentle breeze to waft in the fragrant petrichor belonging to the ever-present rain of late. With my phone in my palm and pizza in my mouth, I immediately opened the link I stole from Clem”s phone.

This will take two minutes, the screen read. Click okay to continue.

I clicked straightaway.

If you had to choose one only, what would you pick? Winter or Summer?

I chose summer.

Egg Foo Young or General Tso”s Tofu.

”Tofu all the way,” I muttered aloud before selecting it. The screen turned green briefly before the question switched.

With each prompt screen, one of my street art designs filled the background. It took me until the third question to figure that out. Confusion warred with my anxiety, and I hurriedly moved forward.

Coffee or tea?

”Monster.” I snorted. ”But coffee I guess.” That time, the screen turned purple, but the next question arrived anyway.

Complete honesty or sheltered truth?

When the deeper question melted over the screen, I lowered the phone to my lap. Whole honesty was my initial reaction, but then I wondered about that. What if being honest meant hurting someone”s feelings? Wouldn”t a softer approach be better? Like if someone went out of their way to knit me a sweater, but I didn”t like sweaters, would I give it back and say, ”No thank you. I don”t like sweaters, and this is ugly.” Or would I just accept it gratefully knowing their gesture was genuine? Sheltered truth didn”t seem right either. My father always said, ”A lie of omission is still a lie.”

I struggled with this one for a few minutes, but then finally chose the whole truth. I could accept the sweater gratefully, even if I didn”t like it. The green led the way again.

The next question stopped me in my tracks. Gals, blokes, or all kinds of folks?

I chuckled at the rhyme and noted that it wasn”t a select one style situation. If I felt like it, I could select all three. I chose gals, and I tapped enter without having to think much on it. More green led to, Resident Evil or The Notebook?

”Ew. Resident Evil, always.” I selected it with ease and swiped the green for the next question.

Rock or Metal?

Rock.More green followed.

Opera or Broadway?

”Neither?” I scrunched up my face. ”I guess Broadway.”

This time, the green screen led to, Liberal or Conservative?

”Duh.”

Monogamy or Something More Open?

”Monogamy. This is weird now.” Frustration tore up my insides and I considered exiting the site while the green screen lingered.

Last one…

”Finally.” I rolled my eyes and stuffed the last of the pizza crust in my mouth.

It looks like we have a few things in common. Would you consider watching a movie with me sometime? Yes, No, Maybe.

”What the fuck is this?” Confusion washed over me, and I sat up straighter in bed. I closed the browser window with the quiz thing and tossed my phone on the bed.

It was my own fault for snooping someone”s phone. If she wanted to share some internet quiz with me, she could”ve just texted it.

I couldn”t shake the frustration, the nagging skin-crawling annoyance that overcame me every time I felt trapped or overwhelmed. Lately, things felt more overwhelming than they should, and I didn”t quite understand it. Work got crazy with people constantly around demanding my attention or sending me on mini-missions toward nothing. My friends seemed strange. No Reagan to keep Tati and I on routine meant days felt less grounded, and with my two close friends now in a relationship, I couldn”t leave my room unless I wanted to bear witness to the multiple orgasms of my roommate. I thought about heading out to Frankie”s shop, but the idea of arguing with her at the moment didn”t seem too appetizing either.

My phone buzzed on the blanket beside me, and I frowned when I picked it up.

Why”d you stop?a text from Clementine asked.

Stop what?

The quiz.

What do you mean why did I stop?

You didn”t answer the last question.

Bewilderment and frustration turned to annoyance in an instant. I”m not sure why I bothered anyway. Why did you have my name on some random thing like that?

It”s not random. I made it for you to answer.

What?

I made it for you.

I don”t understand.I swung my feet off the side of the bed, and sat up properly then.

I made that for you, but I wasn”t sure what you were into. So, I hoped you”d see it while looking through my photos, she said.

When I read her words, I could feel my own face turn into a narrow-browed frown. I didn”t like being tricked or duped or feeling stupid, and this fell right into that category to me. I said nothing for a while, then replied, Okay.

Are you going to answer the last question?

No.

I felt it looming then, the sensation of numbness trickled down from the top of my head, over my face, and down my shoulders like a veil of nothingness. The only emotion that I felt belonged to anger tethered to nothing. It soured my features, brought tears to my eyes, and tightened my hands to fists. I wanted to break something, lash out, or take a red can of paint and deface an enormous white wall with remnants of my rage. I hated when I felt like this, when the destructive urges took over. I imagined myself a tornado, rampaging through a quiet, picturesque town, only to turn around and look back at the wreckage left behind me. All I did was leave wreckage behind me and nothing in that rubble was salvageable.

Including my phone that I let fly against the brick wall.

I didn”t know how much time passed at that point before Tati appeared in my doorway. She wore a silky kimono bound at her waist with her black hair down long over her shoulders.

”We”re gonna watch horror movies and eat ice cream. Wanna join—” She paused when she noticed my phone on the floor, then looked back at me. ”I recognize that face.”

”No, you don”t.”

”Yes, I do.” She dropped down to sit on the bed beside me. ”Meltdown face. Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head.

”Horror movies and cuddles?” She nudged me with her shoulder.

I shrugged.

””Kay. C”mon.” She linked her elbow with mine then led me into the living room.

Wyatt waited for us, barefoot and clad in only a pair of loose-fitting basketball shorts, in front of the coffee table filled with three different pints of ice cream and three spoons. As soon as I appeared, he handed me the non-dairy Phish Food belonging to Ben Jerry”s. I smirked when I accepted it and dropped down on the sofa after.

”Are we going zombies, dystopia, or gore tonight, ladies?” he asked, while helping himself to a Chunky Monkey.

”Wrong one.” Tati snatched the pint from his hand then replaced it with a Half Baked. ”This is your vibe.”

”Listen here, babe.” He took it, sat beside me, then tore off the top. ”I am whole baked, thank you very much.”

We all laughed at that, and I felt the prickling sensation that often accompanied the fringes of me waking up from the sense of overwhelm that shut me down to begin with. Tati sat on the other side of me and draped her legs over my lap so that her feet ended up in Wyatt”s.

”I”m down for this cuddle puddle,” he said, while licking the spoon. ”Also, I”m calling shots on zombies. Cool?”

”Cool.” Tati gave him a spoons-up instead of a thumbs-up and I nodded.

Nights like this one weren”t unusual by any means, and I enjoyed the time with my friends. When the quiet of emotional burnout shut me down, Tatiana rolled with it as always. Wyatt never asked questions, and simply included me in all of his personal decisions. If he wanted a drink of water, he got me one. If he wanted a sandwich, he made me one. He didn”t pressure me to eat and didn”t wake me if I fell asleep. Tatiana was similar in that aspect, but she tended to check in with questions that I had trouble answering. She understood when I couldn”t though, and that”s all that mattered.

By the next morning, and sleeping a solid night, my emotional state returned to baseline. I sat at the kitchen table, frowning at the shattered screen of my phone.

”Still works,” I mumbled while poking at it.

”S”what you get for throwing it.” Tati smooched the top of my head. ”You okay? What got you turnt?”

”One of my coworkers did something weird and I don”t understand why.” I pulled the screen protector off the phone and realized it was mostly the tempered glass.

”You”re lucky.” She pointed at my phone. ”Just the corner. What did the coworker do?”

”Tricked me.”

”How?”

”Had me look at pictures on her phone so that I would find a QR code with my name on it. When I scanned it, it was some kind of like internet quiz.”

Tatiana”s brows lifted. ”Show me.”

I obliged and showed her the quiz questions, still without answering the last one.

Tatiana smiled while she held my phone, a soft chuckle escaping her after the latest swipe. Her reaction did not match mine, and it made me feel worse about it.

”Aw, love. She likes you. Are you gonna say yes?”

”She doesn”t like me. She tricked me. She wanted me to find that QR code.”

Tatiana sat down beside me, her expression soft but serious and accompanied by a smile. She took my hand after setting my phone on the table. ”Maybe a surprise rather than a trick?”

My lips pressed together when I thought about it. ”No.”

”Maybe?” She lifted a brow at me.

”No.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

”Talvez?”

”N?o.” I answered her in one of maybe forty Portuguese words I”d picked up over the years that stuck with me. To be fair, they were both very close to Spanish which helped.

”Sim.” She nodded and flicked my chin with her finger. ”Maybe she”s shy and didn”t know a better way to ask you out, Jags. Do you like her?”

”No. I don”t like people like that. It”s ridiculous.” Anger tangled with frustration, and I glared at my phone. ”It annoys me.”

”I know.” She gave my hand a squeeze. ”Look at me, please.”

I did, but it only made me frown more. ”Why?”

”Because you”re still a little meltdowny, and it”s okay. To me…” She pressed her hand to her chest. ”It feels like this person likes you and she wanted to surprise you by asking you out this way. It upset you because she profiled you accurately, didn”t she? Knowing you”d keep swiping through the pictures, you”d eventually find the QR code with your name and use it. Right?”

”No.” Yes. All the fucking stupid yes.

”Your nose just grew like two feet.” She flicked it and I huffed. ”Am I right? C”mon. I”m your bestie. I know you.”

”Hrmph.” I slouched in my chair and held onto my frown.

”See? I”m right. Now.” She patted my knee. ”Tell me about the girl. Is she cute?”

”I dunno.”

”Okay, listen, your nose is getting into giant dildo territory now. Quit it.” She huffed and gave my jacket a tug. ”Is she cute?”

I shrugged. ”I dunno. She has nice hair and stuff…”

”What about her eyes?”

Again, I shrugged before speaking. ”I guess. They”re greenish hazel.”

”Sounds very pretty. Do you like talking to her?”

”She gets annoyed at me constantly. I hardly understand anything she says because she”s like some super genius or something.”

”But you”ve talked enough that she likes you. Can you think of a moment when you liked talking to her, too?” Tatiana”s gentle handling of the situation calmed me down like it always did, and I rolled with it.

”I guess at Jordan”s. She was there when I was for a bit.”

”What did you talk about?”

”Books mostly, and that she speaks a lot of languages—She speaks Portuguese she said.” My stomach gave a small leap when the memory struck, and I sat up a little straighter. ”Spanish, Romanian, which is weird as fuck, and she was reading a book in French. Who reads in French?”

Tati chuckled and her whole posture seemed to relax for some reason. ”French, huh. How romantic. What book?”

”Voltaire. Literally, Voltaire in French. I don”t even understand Voltaire in English.” My energy surged suddenly, and I felt my heart kick up pace as if I chugged an energy drink. ”She was born in Romania, too. No, wait. Her mother was born in Romania, but she was born here. And she traveled with her mom.” Words flew out of my mouth at forty miles an hour it seemed. ”She”s been to Portugal. I think more than once. She had pictures there. I wonder if she”s been where your family is from.”

”Most people go to Lisbon if they visit Portugal.” Tatiana”s grin broadened while she listened to me. ”What else?”

”That”s it, I guess.” I paused for a moment while staring at my phone. ”She”s a real nerd about science and genealogy. She”s going to be the reason why we turn this case hot.”

”She seems like an awesome connection. What”s her name?”

”Clementine,” I said, then looked back at her. ”Interesting name.”

”Just like Jagger. Maybe her parents were fans of Halsey the way yours loved The Rolling Stones.” She motioned to my torn up old band shirt with the faded yet iconic red tongue.

”Halsey?”

”They have a song called Clementine from 2020.”

I stared at her. ”She wasn”t born seven years ago. Ew. Dork.”

Tatiana laughed and swatted my hand. ”C”mon, I was trying to make conversation. At least I didn”t go way back to the old song.”

”She hates that. I heard her freak out at Ainsley about singing it.” I shook my head and held up a hand to her. ”Don”t even.”

Tatiana”s smile broadened, but I didn”t understand why. ”I won”t.” A brief silence followed until she said, ”So…are you going to answer the last question?”

”I already told her I wasn”t going to answer it.”

”How come you didn”t want to?”

”Because she tricked me…”

”We changed that to surprised you, remember?” she said, her tone gentle. ”We know why now. Why don”t you want to answer?”

”Because movies are awkward. Sitting in silence next to someone while eating crunchy, salty popcorn and drinking bubbly drinks. Who thought that was a good idea?”

”Why not click maybe then when you talk to her, suggest something else?”

I thought about it. For some time. Probably minutes while Tatiana sat with me. ”Like what else?”

”You can always decide that later. If you think you”d like to do something with her, click maybe, love.” She picked up my phone and handed it to me.

The screen lit up in my palm and I frowned at it. It still felt like a trick, but I guess even if it was, it was a harmless one. I pulled up the quiz again, then clicked maybe on the last question. The prompts cleared and a picture of Clementine appeared. It wasn”t like her other pictures by any means. Instead, it looked more like a sultry headshot snapped in perfect light. A small smile parted her cerise lips as she gazed at the camera that highlighted the curves of her cheekbones.

”That”s her?” asked Tatiana and I nodded. ”Wow…”

”What wow?”

”She”s very pretty.”

When she said it, my face heated immediately, and I felt that same niggling feeling in my stomach that I did earlier. It annoyed me and worried me at the same time.

”Do you agree?” she asked.

”Yeah. I mean, that part”s obvious.”

”She likes you, Jags. If you even think you could possibly like her, isn”t it worth the risk?”

”I don”t like people the same way everyone else does…”

”Everyone likes people differently. I”ve known you long enough to know that once you feel more comfortable with the situation or if she had asked you out directly in person, you would”ve been less anxious about it because it would”ve been clearer and more up front, right?” Tatiana leaned back in her chair now as my tension faded.

”Yeah. That”s easier. Most of the people I dated I met like that.”

”From Wildrose or that girl who asked you out at The Crystal Mug a few years ago. They were up front.”

”So much easier. Even if I didn”t know how I felt, if they were hot, I was game to hook up. At least when I was younger. I don”t do that now…”

”None of us do except Frankie, really. I think by the time we hit thirty, that sort of cools down for most people. Not everyone, but most,” she said. ”Or we fall in love with our close friends in an unexpected way.”

I smiled when she said it, and my heart skipped a beat. ”You”re in love with Wyatt. We all know it. He”s been into you for so long.”

”Yeah.” Her beaming smile spread from ear to ear. ”I am. He”s amazing.”

”He is. I”m meeting him later at the skatepark again. Legit can”t wait to hear what he has to say about you.”

She laughed and shoved my shoulder. ”You”re lucky I have to work otherwise I would be crashing your skate party.”

”Skaters only.” I grinned and wagged my brows at her. ”Unless you”ll get on a board.”

”And break this gorgeous face?” She wiggled her fingers in front of her nose. ”No way.”

I laughed and shook my head. ”How”s Reagan?”

”Good. Mom called a little while ago. They”re eight hours ahead of us.”

”Sheesh. So, it”s like four in the afternoon there?”

”Yup. And we”ve barely eaten breakfast. Reagan loves it there so far. She said, ”Mama, it”s sunny and bright and Avó bought me shoes that don”t make my feet sweat.” I about died laughing,” she said, chuckling with it. ”She said it all in Portuguese, too.”

”Is your mom speaking it to her full time?”

She nodded. ”I want her to be fluent. Very little English unless she doesn”t get it at all. Total emersion. She”s at the right age and she has a foundation.”

”Think you”ll ever move back there?”

”I don”t know. Maybe? If I became some sort of well-paid artist, maybe. Because then I can work from anywhere, mostly. We could be bicontinental. The flight is long though…”

”It is. Too bad we”re not East Coasters. Just one flight for the most part.”

”We usually stop in New York anyway. Mom”s been traveling back and forth twice a year her whole life, but I”m aware she won”t always be able to do that.”

”I know…”

”You”d like it there.” She nudged my shoulder. ”Your Spanish-speaking brain could learn more Portuguese.”

”Sometimes I understand more than I think…”

”That”s how it works.”

My phone chimed on the table and a text from Clementine lingered on the screen. I picked it up to read it and Tatiana looked on.

Changed your mind about answering I see.

I smirked and responded, Yeah.

A pause followed until a tiny map joined the text. Thirty minutes?

”She shared a location with me,” I told Tati. ”What should I say?”

”It”s just the Crystal Mug. You”re familiar with it. Why not?” she encouraged.

I hesitated for a moment then replied, Okay.

Tatiana smiled at me, then leaned forward and smooched my cheek. ”Keep an open mind and remember, you already know she likes you. You don”t have to question that.”

”I hate dating. And everything like this.” I stood up to swipe my keys from the counter followed by my bomber jacket from the hook by the door. ”I”m not changing.”

”Why would you change?”

”She hates my ripped jeans.”

”Do you hate your ripped jeans?”

”No…”

”She knows how you dress and yet chose to ask you out anyway. Clearly, she doesn”t hate it enough for it to impede her liking of you. Go on.” She shooed me toward the door. ”Text me later.”

”If I panic, come get me.” I grabbed my skateboard and smirked.

She chuckled and nodded. ”Always. Later.”

”Bye.”

It took me twenty minutes to roll my way down the pavement with my thoughts in a total shamble. All of Tatiana”s advice and words tangled with my own. I didn”t want to do this. I didn”t want to at all, and I didn”t understand any of it either. But I knew that if I didn”t go, it would make the work I had to do with Clementine on this case, and any future case, more difficult. All I could think about was the awkwardness of the future and the exhaustion of now.

I hopped off my board at the entrance to The Mug and drew in a slow breath before pulling open the door.

In the somewhat busy café, it took me a moment to locate Clementine in the corner. In the new-age ambiance filled with purple accoutrements, crystal center pieces, and tasteful wall swatches, the tiny circular tables that lined the edges of the room tied the look together. Single or pairs of people often used those while the larger square tables held the bigger parties. Today, patrons gathered sporadically around the place and the distinct scent of fresh brownies filled the room.

Clem sat at the table in the farthest position from all the other tables in the café. A purple reusable mug perched on the table in front of her while she sat with her legs crossed. She stared down at a book in her lap, the same way she had in the salon. Sans lab coat and hair tie, Clem”s hair tumbled over her shoulders in a flagrant display. It touched her elbows in places while in others it just reached her chin. She wore a pair of nerdy, black-rimmed glasses that she urged up the bridge of her nose. For some reason, the gesture made me smile. I”d never seen her with glasses before, but it suited her. She wore a sleek pair of black slacks and a thin blue sweater that fell an inch short of her wrists. When she tucked her hair behind her ear, a sense of guilt tightened my stomach. The thoughts that followed after I completed her quiz weren”t very nice, and she didn”t deserve that kind of thinking.

As I stood there with people bustling past me, a sense of clarity washed over me. If I joined her at that table, I”d be making a choice. One that I”d avoided for a long time. By stepping into this, I”d be starting something. Something that I couldn”t walk away from, couldn”t make a graceful dismount or even a bumbling bail. And in choosing to walk forward, I chose a commitment.

I gripped the truck of my board tightly in my palm, took a breath, and headed to the table. I hesitated when she didn”t look up right away and stood there for an awkward few seconds. Then a few more.

”Clem.”

Nothing.

”Clem.”

Nada.

”Clementine.” I leaned my skateboard against the wall and folded my arms when I stood barely a foot away from her. It took her a moment to notice me, and it started with my shoes.

”Those are vintage Vans,” she said, her voice perky as she set her book down.

”I mean, I”m pretty vintage myself so…it works.” I didn”t move as she continued to stare at my shoes, but only then did I notice hers. Coupled with her sleek, but relaxed, outfit, she wore a pair of black-and-white saddle shoes. I hadn”t seen anything like them since I was a kid forced into Easter dresses by my grandma. ”I like your shoes.”

”Oh.” She smiled when she uncrossed her legs and pressed her feet together. ”Do you?”

”I do.” I chuckled and finally broke whatever bizarre stalemate we entered to sit down across from her.

”Thank you. They”re not very new. I”ve always liked them. Oxfords, too.” Eventually, she looked up at me and set her book down on the table. I noticed the title, O Alquimista, by Paulo Coelho.

”The Alchemist?” I pointed at the book when I recognized the name of the author. ”I”ve read that. In English though. A long time ago.”

”It”s a very good story,” she said, turning the book over. Only then did I notice the worn pages. ”It”s one of my favorites. I”ve never read it in English though… This copy is in Brazilian.” She scrunched up her nose for a fleeting moment.

”Tatiana makes that face, too. Whenever people think Portuguese people are all Brazilian or when people think Brazilian Portuguese is European Portuguese.”

”It”s a real thing.” She chuckled and her gaze finally flickered to meet mine. ”How are you?”

The sudden on point social engagement sent off a wave of anxiety through me and I responded robotically. ”I”m good. How are you?”

”Good,” she replied, though the awkwardness seemed to take hold of her, too.

We shared an unusual quiet moment until I managed to break it. ”Can I get you something?” I motioned to the short-haired woman who carried out the fresh tray of brownies to the front case. ”They make great brownies here. Almost everything is vegan.”

”Are you vegan?” she asked, her brows lifting with interest.

”Not really? I mean, I tend to eat mostly vegan or vegetarian, but mainly because I hate, absolutely loathe, cooking,” I admitted. ”I tend to choose vegan or veg items though.”

”Fruits and vegetables are the best,” she said, simply, without an inkling of judgment.

”Are you vegan?”

She shook her head. ”Not particularly. I will eat anything but do so reasonably.”

”What do you mean?”

”I try to buy sustainably sourced products. Like pasture-raised farm eggs and if I buy meat, very little or from the same circumstances.” Her gaze flickered in my direction, though it appeared with caution as if she worried that I would criticize that.

”I”m here for that. It”s how it should be. Things are much better now overall since they passed that bill. Especially here in Washington.”

”Yes.” Her smile broadened suddenly. ”In New York and California, too.”

”Yeah.” I nodded and felt myself relaxing into the conversation for the moment. In just the short period of time, we covered literature, our dietary preferences, and pretty much disclosed our liberal leanings. My mind continued to evaluate the process, but also looked for a way to bring up what she sent me and what she meant by it.

When quiet fell again, she ran her fingers through her hair, lending light to the natural highlights that cascaded through the lengths of it. She tucked it behind her ear again and glanced at me. The tiniest hint of makeup made her eyes stand out, and the lights above us brought them to a humble twinkle. Clementine was beautiful, and I”d be an idiot to not admit it. She almost always wore a serious expression, which was difficult for me to interpret most of the time. Did I upset her? Is she mad at me? My thoughts berated me.

”How come you sent me that quiz?” I blurted out without an ounce of tact.

”Because I think you”re interesting,” she said, rather blandly.

”Interesting? You hardly know me.”

”Interest doesn”t mean know. Interest means want to know.” She shrugged and reached for her coffee to sip it.

”Oh…” was all I could come up with at the time.

”Do you have interest in me?” she asked, her voice soft, but the question didn”t lack confidence.

The question struck me, but took me a moment to admit my response. ”Yeah.”

She smiled then, and it made it to her eyes for the first time in a manner that made me pay attention. Our gazes remained for longer than usual, until I glanced at the door.

”Do you want to take a walk or something?” I asked.

”Sure.” She stood, scooped up her book, and placed the cap on her coffee cup. Both items ended up securely in her purse.

I joined her, gripping my board, and leading the way out the door.

The busy Seattle streets greeted us, as did a random drone flying overhead. It zoomed past, a heavy buzzing sound accompanying it briefly.

”Imagine a world where that”s the traffic we”ll see?” She nodded upward. ”Drones and hovercraft.”

”I can”t imagine it… But if I could, it would be too much.”

”I would drive a hovercraft if it was eco-friendly. Much more so than cars as they are now. The emissions are part of what”s ruining the planet, other than, you know, basic humanity.”

I chuckled when she said it and she glanced at me with a smile tugging the corner of her mouth. ”What?”

”I made you laugh.”

”You did.” I nodded.

Her smile remained as we walked side-by-side down the busy street. ”Do you live close by here?”

”Generally. About a twenty-minute walk. We”re in a loft downtown. What about you?”

She glanced at me, her expression suddenly serious. ”We?”

I nodded. ”My best friend and I share a place, and her six-year-old daughter.”

”Oh.” She appeared to relax for a moment. ”Not uncommon here for people to cohabitate. I did through college and most of graduate school.”

”Us, too. We had more roommates over the years, but eventually we all were able to afford ourselves. It”s expensive being your own dependent.” I sighed dramatically.

A snicker escaped her, and she nodded. ”It is. Do you have many friends?”

”A small group. But mainly because we all occupy the same space or social connections. My sister owns a tattoo shop, and we all hang out there. Sometimes Wildrose, but I don”t like it much. It”s gotten very club-like, or maybe I”ve just gotten old and don”t like it as I used to.”

”I”m not a fan of bars or clubs, but I”ve been there,” she said while gazing at our feet.

I looked down to see our shoes walking in time completely mismatched. Her saddle shoes, shiny and tidy, beside my ratty old skate shoes seemed like the biggest juxtaposition ever. One end of the spectrum to the other, though I guessed bright red heels would be the farthest end of one spectrum, though. We weren”t that apart, per say.

”Do you live close by here?” I asked her question back at her.

”About fifteen minutes.” She pointed to our left. ”In the condos by the market.”

”Oh. Those are nice. You can see the harbor.”

”Yes.” She smiled at the mention of it. ”I like watching the boats.”

”I can imagine. Do you have many friends?” Again, I mimicked her question because socialization was not my forte.

”Yes and no. I”ve made friends all over the world, but we don”t talk much. Perhaps a few times a year via text or a call every so often. Here, I”ve made some work acquaintances and from the salon. Jordan likes to try and connect people.”

”She”s usually good at that.”

”Usually. I tend to keep to myself,” she said. ”It”s easier. What if I become friends with someone at work and we have an argument? Too much overlap and room for bad blood.”

”Understood. I guess I make acquaintances easily, but I tend to stick with my small group. My sister makes it challenging sometimes though… She”s…a personality.”

”Is she? You”re not at all alike?”

”Not at all. Frankie is pretty wild.”

Clem paused, her brow furrowed. ”Frankie from the salon is your sister?”

I nodded. ”Know her?”

”I do.” Her lips pursed, and she frowned. ”She is very rude.”

I laughed at that and nodded. ”Very rude. A personality.”

Her forehead remained wrinkled, and she didn”t appear to respond to my laughter at all. She seemed mostly thoughtful though it worried me she”d been a victim of Frankie”s shenanigans.

”Have you and Frankie—”

”Absolutely not.” She shook her head and gestured with both hands in a cutting motion. ”I would never. Unhealthy is not my type.”

”Good. Me either.” I smirked at that, but also silently celebrated picking up on the opening to ask a question. ”What is your type?”

”Not anything particular.” Clem rolled with it, leaving behind the agitation belonging to the Frankie conversation. ”It”s more of a mind or emotional thing for me. If you”re interesting to me and if we connect, that matters most.” She paused for a moment then glanced at me. ”You?”

”Um…” I thought about it for a moment. ”I would say the same, I guess. I”m not sure. I agree more about the connecting though.”

”Each of my ex-partners were different,” she added with a shrug. ”But they”re exes for a reason, I suppose.”

”Were they long relationships?”

”Not really. Two years the longest, but there was physical distance. Traveling a lot does that. But I don”t travel as much now, and I”ve been single since,” she said. ”Dated a little but not much.”

”Same…” I mustered very little response to the difficult topic. ”I have a hard time talking to people sometimes or understanding them when it comes to relationships, so I avoid it I think.”

”I understand that. You avoided my quiz a little, too.” She smiled when she said it and our eyes met for a moment. ”I”m glad you saw that QR code.”

”It felt like you tricked me, so I got upset at first.”

”I thought it would be more of something unexpected,” she said. ”And if you didn”t come across it on my phone, I would”ve texted it anyway.”

”Sneaky…”

”Surprises are nice sometimes.”

”Sometimes.” I felt myself smile when she validated what Tatiana said. ”I”m not a big fan of going to the movie theatre, so that was part of it. I”m too restless…”

”I didn”t say go to the movies, I said watch a movie.” She snickered and tucked her hands into her pockets. ”I figured we could”ve video chatted and watched a movie together at the same time.”

”Oh.” My stomach gave a great leap. ”Well, I would”ve done that.”

”See?” Her snicker turned into a full laugh. ”No harm no foul.”

”Yeah.” I grinned and shrugged. ”What kind of movies do you like?”

”Queer content for sure. Not a huge fan of gore or horror, but I”ll watch thrillers and crime stuff. Mostly queer.” She glanced at me and motioned to our left. ”We can watch something together now if you want. My place isn”t far.”

”Okay. You have a particularly queer movie in mind?”

”Kind of. It”s queer coded, but I”m not sure if it”ll turn out that way. Willing to take the risk?” She smiled and turned to lead the way toward the harbor apartments.

”Sure.”

”Me too. C”mon.” She waved for me to follow her, and her pace quickened as we turned the corner.

I felt myself smiling differently then, with my skateboard gripped against my hip as I hurried after her. I didn”t quite understand Clem or her intentions overall, but she seemed trustworthy enough. If I allowed myself to explore my own emotions, I could see myself wanting to know her better and perhaps—never mind.

That was enough for the moment.