“I’m really excited about it. Dad wasn’t thrilled I chose fashion merchandising as my major, and you know him, so I really wanted to find a job to shut him up as quickly as possible.” She shovels noodles out of one of the six take-out boxes she brought onto her plate. “Lucky for me, my mom’s sorority sister is a bigwig at Nella Moon so she was able to pull some strings. It’s an unpaid internship, but we’re not telling Dad about that part.”

I grab a spring roll and shove it into my mouth. I chew as slowly as possible to give myself some time to think of something to say other than my thoughts on nepotism or the inherent systemic racism in industries still using unpaid interns.

She means well. She means well. She means well.

“Well, at least you found something you’re interested in,” I manage to say after I swallow. “Where are you staying?”

“The Highlands area. Close to downtown, but not in the heart of it.” She explains this to me like I wasn’t born and raised in this city. “My apartment is really cute. My mom forced me to get a two-bedroom so she can visit. I know Aspen isn’t far away, but I didn’t realize how close it was. She’s totally going to kill my single-in-the-city vibe.”

I stay quiet, nodding with what I hope is a polite smile and not a grimace as I relive some of my deepest childhood trauma. Aspen is 198 miles away from Denver, but with the distance it put between me and my dad, it might as well have been millions.

“There are a ton of bars and restaurants within walking distance, though, so maybe you could come over one night. I mean, if you want to, no pressure. I know you’re busy. I’ll understand if you can’t.”

Daisy is always composed. She has perfect posture, and when she enters a room, it’s like she assumes everyone is glad she came—even when she shows up unannounced at your door with Thai food. It’s the kind of thing that must come from living a life of privilege where mistakes aren’t the end of the world and second chances seem endless.

This rambling, nervous Daisy is foreign to me, and I can’t help but end her misery.

“I’d love to,” I cut in, squeezing her hand across the table. Her cheeks warm to a pink cosmetic companies must spend years trying to formulate. “It doesn’t take much convincing to get me to explore new restaurants and eat food.”

“Same!” Her face brightens and part of me wonders if I imagined the insecurity to be able to relate to her on some level. “Great, I’ll find a few places that look good and then you can tell me when you’re free.”