Broken glass in the asphalt under my hands shone here and there, like the crystals in the bud. I crouched near a weedy fence, dandelion leaves jagged at the base of the chain link. I hooked my fingers through the links and pulled myself up.

I was pleased to see the door to the bar not too far away. I knew I could get there if I concentrated. I felt very cold. Was it cold? What month was it? Wasn’t it spring? I approached the door, but got scared of going in. The next second I forgot that, and opened the door. I couldn’t see very well and I wondered if my contacts had fallen out. I found a stool at the bar and leaned against it, undignified. I tried to hold still and not smile.

“Charlotte. What can I get you?” Eric, the bartender: what an amazing coincidence, to see him again.

“Hi!” I said.

“Are you doing all right, kid? What do you need?”

I considered his questions and answered truthfully. “I don’t know,” I said.

He nodded and left and I forgot about him. He suddenly appeared again with a glass of water and a bag of Fritos. He left them on the bar in front of me. I attacked the bag of chips. I heard Michael laugh behind me. I loved Michael’s laugh. I turned towards the sound, smiling. That’s how stoned I was: I heard Michael and smiled. Then I remembered, and I saw him in a group of people at a table near the pinball machine. His fingers entwined in a mass of orange hair attached to her, Sonja. I dropped the Fritos on the bar and walked over to their table.

“Hi, Sonja,” I said. My voice sounded strange and bright, chirpy.

They both looked up.

“Charlotte,” Michael said. “What do you want?”

“I’m not talking to you,” I said. “I wanted to say hi to your new girlfriend, that’s all.”

“Hi,” Sonja said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Is it?” I said. “Is it nice?”

“Come on, Charlotte, don’t do this,” Michael said. “We’re trying to have a drink, okay?”

“Fuck you,” I said, not looking at him. “You don’t get to talk to me anymore. Leave us alone.”

“Charlotte, I’m really sorry,” Sonja said. “I know this must be very hard for you. I never intended for any of it to happen.”

“Sorry for what?” I said. “What are you sorry for? Specifically.”

“Um . . .”

“Charlotte, leave her alone.”

“Look, she’s afraid to say why. Or ashamed. Are you ashamed of yourself, Sonja? You’re so pretty. No wonder he wants to fuck you.”

I reached out and stroked her long hair. She flinched at my touch.

“You must have missed him when we were together,” I said.

“I guess.”

She looked terrified. I was glad.

“You know he’s a liar, though, right?” I said.

“Charlotte, come on, stop it.”

“No, Michael, she should know this. I mean, she might not be smart enough to put it together. Isn’t that what you used to say about her? That she was too naïve? You couldn’t stand always having to protect her and explain things to her? She was like a child? It made him impatient,” I said to her. “He told me all about why he dumped you.”