The bright day chiseled at my head. I felt poisoned. I got in the shower and stood under the water until it ran cold, then dressed in jeans and a blue cowboy shirt with white birds embroidered above the pockets. My skin felt sensitive. I moved carefully around the apartment, brewed a pot of coffee, gathered up last night’s clothes from the middle of the living room floor. I was pulling on my boots when Audrey awoke. “Hey,” she said. “Hey.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her beauty seemed magnified in the morning light, her makeup smeared, her hair disheveled. I didn’t know what to say to her. I felt impaired, awkward. “Do you want some coffee?” I said. “Or a shower? You can take a shower if you want. I’m going out for cigarettes.” “Okay,” she said. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I slid sunglasses on and walked to the gas station five blocks away. There was a closer store, but I needed the time away, and the space. I’d never been with a girl before, not like that.
