He pushes a plate at me and even though the cheese is cold and congealed now, it smells amazing. I am too hungry to refuse.

He says good night and that I can come get him if I need anything, like it’s settled that I’ll stay and eat and sleep on that futon by myself. Then he goes into his bedroom and shuts the door.

I eat fast, standing away from the futon so I won’t spill on anything but myself. Then I kick my boots off but leave all my clothes on. I don’t make the bed, just throw down the sheet and lie on top of it. Pull the blanket over me and try to take up as little space as I can, like sleeping on half the futon will be half the burden. I thought I understood and I don’t and I have that math class feeling in my chest. The tightness pulls in on me and my insides might pop like a balloon in a vise. In my head, I kiss him over and over. His lips are chapped, but mostly soft. That horrified look on his face. My thoughts are too bright and loud for me to fall asleep. But I’m warm. At least I am warm, and my hand feels a little bit better.

When the sky is just beginning to turn blue, I fold the blankets and sheets, stack the pillows next to them. I don’t think I can push the futon back into a couch myself. I worry it will make noise if I try, so I leave it. Tiptoe into the kitchen to place my plate in the sink, then I sneak out the door, carrying my boots down the stairs so my footsteps won’t make noise.

I drive to The Commons, park one street over from yesterday. Maybe today I’ll get up the nerve to ask Carly about her couch. Today is also the day we get paid and divvy up the tip jar and I don’t know how much money it will be, but maybe it’s enough. Maybe one of those Xeroxed posters with the fringed edge will have a phone number I can call, a room I can rent for cheap. Or maybe I’ll buy a map and drive away to find someplace new, where I haven’t humiliated myself yet.

I sit on a bench across from Decadence and wait for it to open. The clouds break apart and a beam of sun shines through. I close my eyes and pretend I can absorb the light like a sunflower.

When I open my eyes again, Adam is walking toward me. I want to get up and walk away, but he sees me see him, so there’s no exit that isn’t awkward.