I felt like a branch being carried by the quick black stream of my own life. I made a small circle with the palm of my hand on the smooth darkness of the dining room table, and sighed. Okay.

Thank you.

And you’re sure you didn’t tell Julian or his mother about us?

No.

I told Kyle that we were navigating dangerous territory, and he said that he was aware. I looked out the picture window at the dark-grey of the front yard, and the faint glow of the street beyond. I tried to imagine what I would do if I saw Kyle standing out there, talking to me on his phone. I honestly wouldn’t have put it past him. There was a wild unpredictability about him. He had the soul of a poet, and the brain of a teenager, full of whimsy and bad impulse control.

No more texting me in the middle of the night, okay?

Okay.

Now, try to get some sleep.

You too, he said. And then after a moment, he added—Good night, Claire.

I felt a jolt at the sound of my name. It was the first time he had ever said it. But then for him to call me ‘Miss,’ now, would have felt ridiculous. I was suddenly struck by the fact that it had never once come up in any of our chats after class. I wondered how long he had been waiting to say it, or whether he had even given it a thought before now. Before I could say good night, I sensed a shift in the room. A presence behind me. I turned and gasped, and jumped up from my chair, dropping the phone. Jesus Christ—

A shadow leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. Wearing an oversized t-shirt, like a nightdress, and holding a glass of water.

I was parched, Ashley said, taking a languid sip. You could cook an egg on her vocal fry. I put my foot over the bright screen of the phone, hiding the name of the caller as fast as I could. But was I fast enough? My mind raced back over the last five minutes.

Were you just standing there, listening to me?

Who was that?

I suddenly felt hot pressure all over, like my skin couldn’t contain me. I crouched down to the floor, grabbed the phone out from under my foot, and pressed the red button to end the call.

Why were you listening to my conversation?

Who were you taking to?

Cassandra.

Oh really, she replied, drolly.

She’s been going through a hard time, and I’ve been trying to—

Are you having an affair?

I laughed, though it sounded more like wind being knocked from my lungs. Ashley reached for the dimmable light switch, and turned up the chandelier over the dining table, just enough to see one another’s face.

Is it a woman? she pressed.

What?