The brilliant sunshine and fresh morning air reinforced my sensation that things were about to improve. Plug parked at the curb and hopped out to open my door for me. He wore a V-neck T-shirt as blue as the sky. And I smiled. I brushed past him to take my seat. He smelled like fabric softener, clean and crisp. “Better today?” he asked. “Much,” I said. “Last night’s smudging must have worked, because I feel better than ever.” He ran around to the driver’s side and slid into his seat. “You cold?” He motioned toward my outfit. “No.” I plucked at the sweatshirt. “Do I look stupid?” “If that’s what you want to wear, don’t worry—” “I care what you think,” I said. “I’m used to seeing you in fewer clothes.” Images of last night popped into my head, and my chest lit on fire. He held up his hands. “Wait! I meant you normally wear flip-flops, shorts, and a shirt. Today, you’re wearing boots, big jeans, and a sweatshirt.” He fidgeted with his lip ring.
