“You dropped out?”

“Never applied. But it sounds better, doesn’t it? Like at least I gave it a shot.”

There’s more laughing and more kissing before I hear a familiar shriek.

“There she is! Ugh, I thought he murdered you!” Pippa’s voice is getting closer to us. I remove myself from Joe. She is trekking barefoot on the sand, sinking a little with each step. “How was I supposed to explain this to your parents? They would have killed me.”

Joe drapes an arm over my shoulder. Pippa stops and glances between us. Her Cheshire cat smile says she is over her momentary anger.

“I see what’s going on here, rascals.”

“Nothing’s going on,” I say impishly.

“If that’s the case, I’ll have two of these nothings. Wrap it up, lovebirds. We have a flight to catch.”

“Five minutes,” Joe bargains.

“And who are you again?” Pippa arches an eyebrow. “We didn’t get a chance to meet properly.”

“Joe.” I gesture toward him like Vanna White revealing an important vowel on Wheel of Fortune. “My boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend,” Pippa echoes, grinning.

“Her boyfriend.” Joe squeezes me close. “Keep her safe for me till I’m back, Mainstream.”

“It’s the twenty-first century. She can hold her own. But I will, asshat. You’ve got twenty minutes.” She wiggles her finger at me. “And because I’m an amazing, understanding friend, whom you’d totally give a kidney to if I ever need one, and also because I’m sure you did use a condom tonight, and that’s worth celebrating, I’ll go back to our hotel, pack up both our stuff, and check out. I’ll meet you back here in a bit.”

“You’re the best, Pip.”

“I know.” She flicks her hair. “But it’s nice to be reminded.”

Joe and I spend the next twenty minutes kissing, and hugging, and promising each other phone calls, and letters, and the entire sky, stars included. Then Pippa comes to collect me, and I steal a few more minutes with him, because if I’m about to maybe give her a kidney, I feel like I can milk a bit more time with Joe. Then, finally, we say goodbye.

As we stuff ourselves into a cab to the airport, I marvel at the last twenty-four hours.

It is too good to be true.

And Pippa is wrong. Joe and I didn’t use a condom tonight.

We used two.

THREE

Six years later.

Loki is gone.

I come to this realization after looking for him everywhere. I searched both my and Nora’s rooms, under the beds, in the closets, all the cabinets, and behind the couch.

I try to keep myself together, which is impossible enough even without a disaster looming over my head. I tell myself there are only so many places a fifteen-pound aging cat can hide in. Especially in a tiny two-bedroom apartment.

But Loki has never done this before. Disappeared on me like this. Not since I adopted him from a shelter my first (and last) week living in Boston.