Our drinks sweated in the cup holder while we kissed. She smelled metallic; her skin was salty.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked after a while.

“Tasha’s coming,” I said. The thought of not seeing Steph, of not touching her, seemed intolerable.

She ran her hand over my thigh. “I’m still coming over to do yard work on Friday,” she said. “Will Tasha be there?”

“Come early. Maybe she’ll be asleep.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know.”

I pulled her face to mine. We didn’t have enough time.

Chapter 33

I met Tasha at the Marin Airporter stop in San Rafael on Wednesday morning. It had been less than twenty-four hours since I’d seen Steph, but my body felt like it was in withdrawal. I was jittery, but the shuttle was pulling into the parking lot and I had to get out of the car.

I spotted Tasha in big sunglasses and a Spelman hoodie, pulling her carry-on behind her. She’d colored her dark hair red at the tips since the last time I’d seen her.

“Tasha!” I called, waving.

When she saw me, she headed in my direction. I met her halfway, and when we hugged I smelled her coconut lotion. It brought me back to graduation day. I remembered staring at the shiny acetate of the gown over my knees and the freshly cut grass at my feet, uncomfortably relieved that my mom wasn’t there to see the way everyone was avoiding me.

Tasha said, “It’s so good to see you.” When we parted, she had a strange expression on her face—mingled excitement and anxiety. “How are you?”

I remembered Steph asking me the same question yesterday, a smile in her eyes. I had answered her with a kiss.

“I’m good,” I said, and in that moment the words felt true.

—

In the car, I asked Tasha to tell me about France. We were almost to the freeway on-ramp when she pointed out the window and asked, “Is that an In-N-Out?”

I saw the red-and-yellow sign in the distance. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never eaten there. Isn’t it supposed to be a thing?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“Can we go?”

“Right now?” The idea of going there without Steph startled me.

“Sure, why not? I had a weird breakfast on the plane but it’s past two on the East Coast. I need lunch!”

“Okay,” I said, and headed for In-N-Out.

In the restaurant, we slid into a hard plastic booth while we waited for our orders to be called. Steph and I had never eaten inside. Tasha said she wanted to go to the beach while she was here. I kept glancing at the doors as if Steph might walk in at any moment.

“And San Francisco,” Tasha was saying. “Can we go there?”