When the bill came, I fumbled in my purse for my wallet. My share was four dollars, but I was down to my last ten. Lou must have seen the panic on my face, weighing the half-uneaten piece of pie on my plate with the last few dollars I had and the prospect of rent in a few weeks, and all the meals until then.

“Let it be my treat,” she said, smiling again, like it was no imposition, like it was nothing. But I liked her. I wanted to be her friend. That meant equal.

I slid the bill out of my wallet, watching it all the way down onto the counter. The cards were nearly maxed out; the cash was running thin. Part of me said I needed that ten dollars more than I needed a friend. Part of me said I should grab her money and run.

But I was different then, so I passed her the ten dollars and tried not to stare at the fifty she laid down. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have nothing smaller, to have to pay for pie with Grant’s face.

Lou asked me questions, but my eyes kept flicking down to the tab. I couldn’t help it. It was a crawly panic at the back of my neck, the idea that I’d wasted something I needed. I could feel tears pricking my eyes. She had to keep repeating her questions before I answered. All I could see was the little tear in the top right corner of her bill and the faded red scribble over Alexander Hamilton’s left eyebrow on my own. Like someone had used it as a coloring book.

The waitress swung by, reached for the tab. But Lou was quicker. She trapped the bills between her nail and the table.

“One more minute,” she told the waitress, flashing a high-wattage smile. “We might not be done yet.”

A stone dragged down the pit of my stomach. I opened my mouth, about to say that I was full, thanks, when Lou stopped me.

“What are you,” she said, “about a 34D?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m pretty good at this,” she said. “Am I right?”

I could feel color creeping into my face, but more than that, I was disappointed. This was it, the reason she’d been so nice to me out of nowhere. People aren’t just nice; they always want something. I should’ve known better. I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Tell you what,” Lou said. “How about neither one of us pays for breakfast.”

I shivered, and my nipples got hard against my elbows. “You mean leave? Without paying the bill?”

Lou snorted. “No way, this is my favorite diner.” She jerked her head toward a booth on the other side of the diner. “You see that guy over there? Glasses, too much forehead.”