Music blared to my right and three sets of hands tried to right me. I didn’t put up much of a fight and something heavy weighed my lower leg down . . . Oh, that’s right, I was in a cast. “Sasha? Baby, are you okay?” Jesse’s face swam before me and I gave him a loopy smile. Must have hit my head pretty hard. Either that or we’d been drinking. Kerri wiggled her way between us and grasped both sides of my head, firmly yanking my face to hers. “Do we need to go?” There was an urgency in her voice and I was just concussed enough that the puzzle pieces weren’t quite fitting together. Then I remember who belonged to the final set of hands. My father took a large step backward, clearly unsure how I was going to react to seeing him after—what, a decade? In a truly cliché moment, I really had rehearsed this moment thousands and thousands of times, imagined all the ways we’d meet, knew exactly what to say.
