I roll off the bed and glance at the clock – 9:00 a.m. I’m wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt.“Who is it?” I ask, depressing the intercom button.“Avon Florists.”“Who?”“Avon Florists. We have a delivery for apartment 3C. A…Sage?”The voice sounds young and hesitant. “Okay. That’s me.” I buzz the deli...
I set Yam down and move into the living room, where her friend Blair is on the couch, wearing flannel PJ bottoms and oversized fuzzy slippers, an orange football jersey completing her outfit. Her ebony skin gleams in the halogen ceiling lights, and she waves a beer at me as I set my backpack down...
It’s not the same on the phone. He sounds different. Distant. I know I shouldn’t read too much into it, but that’s not my way. I analyze everything to death, and now I’m wondering why he didn’t call sooner, what he’s doing to pass the time while I’m gone, whether he’s out partying at night… I tel...