At first they’d laughed at how crazy it was that two girls from hip-hop dance class ended up spending so much time together, even though they lived at opposite ends of the city. Bonnie out east in the hipster Leslieville stretch and Alix west of the Latin strip off Ossington. It made sleepovers a lot easier to explain to their parents, a benefit that Bonnie is only just beginning to realize.

When Alix put her hand up Bonnie’s shirt, she let her, but they had to stop when her fake nose ring got caught in Alix’s springy curls.

Bonnie hasn’t slept with anyone since she broke up with her ex Tommy last year. She hadn’t been ready. But she might be ready now, she thinks. Besides, this is different than it is with a guy. Playful. She wants to tell Alix everything, even the stupid, embarrassing things. Like this feeling she has all the time now, that people are looking at her.

She takes her nose ring out completely, so she doesn’t pull any of Alix’s hair, and she later goes into the bathroom to put it back in. As she returns to the room, she runs into Alix’s mom in the hall. The older woman yawns and reaches up to adjust the silk scarf she’s wrapped her hair in.

“Everything okay? Alix hogging the duvet on you? Here.” Alix’s mom, whose name Bonnie never asked, gives the scarf one final pat, reaches into the linen closet, and pulls out a spare comforter.

“Everything is great,” Bonnie says. She takes the comforter anyway, though she doesn’t need it. She and Alix may have found a whole new way to stay warm.

The next morning she gets off the streetcar early with a group of people, thinking she could bring some coffee back for her mom. Lynn often doesn’t have time to make coffee for herself in the morning, so Bonnie’s usually the one to do it. After getting the coffee, she’s still got that stupid grin on her face, the same one she had since she woke up this morning. She turns onto her street. She never told Alix about that stuff from her past and about her new concerns that someone is always looking at her.

Like now. It’s only a fleeting instinct that something isn’t right, that there are arms reaching for her, but it’s enough of a warning for her to throw both cups of coffee into the man’s face and run, screaming.

A few seconds later, an SUV with tinted windows peels away, tires squealing.

Bonnie stands on her front porch, shaking, her wrists and hands burned from the hot coffee, her heart beating so loudly she can practically hear it.