“Kimmie is very young and because of her skating, she was far more naïve than most girls her age. She didn’t know what she was talking about when she said she loved him. She had a crush. Love isn’t a light switch you can just flip on and off. It’s not fair of you to hold her inexperience against her. You’re too smart for that. C’mon, I know she thinks highly of you, so perhaps if you saw her again…”

Dustin stood up so abruptly his chair flew back and hit the floor with a bang, which brought Steven running back into the room. Dustin scrambled to pick up the chair and then immediately started tossing his books into his backpack. He needed to leave. He felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. He needed air. “Sorry, guys,” he muttered. “Steven, I’m heading out. Text me if you need me to proofread anything for you. Lolly, I know you mean well, and I’m sorry I’m acting like a baby, but I can’t talk to your sister ever again. I do hope she feels better, and of course, I only wish her the best.”

Dustin ran out the door and suffered a mild panic attack in the elevator. He used the inhaler that he always carried, the first time in months. He took two big puffs, and it helped him catch his breath, but it did nothing for his heart, which ached for the girl he loved, who hadn’t loved him back.

VIII

It had been fifteen days since Kimmie shed a tear and she felt like she deserved something to commemorate the occasion, like how Natalia got her thirty-day orange chip from Narcotics Anonymous and how her bf, Nick, had a ninety-day red medallion that he kept on his key chain. Since their first outing a little over a week ago, the three of them had been seeing each other almost every day. Kimmie and Natalia had bonded that first night over their fancy Italian meals, after Nick put the kibosh on them eating at Raoul’s, where he worked. Nick said he liked to keep the different parts of his life separate and felt that showing up as a patron would send a weird message to the guys he worked with.

After dinner, true to her word, Natalia spent the next two hours dyeing Kimmie’s long blond hair an electric purple ombre that faded into lavender at the ends. Kimmie loved her new hair and told Natalia that she wanted to get a tattoo, too. Natalia said she knew a guy who’d give her one, even though legally she had to be eighteen. Nick, who had been playing Fortnite on the secondhand PC they had in their tiny one-bedroom apartment, spoke up sharply and said no.

“What do you care if Kimmie gets a tat?” Natalia asked her boyfriend.