Ash had snorted. “Hello, Nate What the Fuck, and good-bye,” she’d said, closing her backpack as she prepared to leave.

“You know you can crash here. Justin’s got room.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. This shit doesn’t feel right.”

“Listen, Justin is a total pussy. He only targets weaker girls. All you have to do is make sure he doesn’t think you’re one of them. And if he tries anything, you’ve got this.” Nate had handed Ash a small white switchblade.

“You’re just going to give me this?” The knife handle was made of ivory with tiny flecks of gold embedded in it. Handcrafted and expensive. No one gave anyone anything, especially something this nice, without wanting something in return.

Nate had shrugged. “It was my granddad’s. Consider it good karma. C’mon, you really got any place better to go?”

Ash was still starving, and the idea of getting real sleep that night was tempting. She’d tucked the knife in her pocket and watched as Nate moved around the kitchen like it was his own.

“How long have you been crashing here?”

“A few weeks. I’m not Justin’s type, but he likes my friend. We’re kicking it here until he realizes she’s never going to fuck him. Sure as shit beats sleeping on the street. You should give it a few nights,” Nate said. “We’ll look out for each other.”

She wasn’t sure why she’d agreed. There was something so sincere about Nate, this innate goodness emanated from him. They’d hung out at Justin’s, fake laughing at his jokes and eating his food. Nate’s friend had taken off a few days later, but Nate stayed behind. She told herself it wasn’t because of her, but deep down, she knew differently. He was already looking out for her.

For six weeks Nate and Ash had stayed, playing house. During the day, they’d head to Venice Beach or Santa Monica. Nate would play music for the tourists, and at night, they’d eat Justin’s food while Justin got high and told terribly unfunny stories. When another girl left, Ash and Nate had called dibs on the bedroom. Nate would sleep on an air mattress on the floor beside her. Sometimes when the nightmares startled her awake, he would climb in bed and hold her until she drifted off. Nothing creepy or kinky. It was never like that. He never even tried to kiss her. Some nights they’d grab a slice of pizza and sit on the beach, side by side, imagining what life could be like.

“We’ll have a house in the mountains,” Nate joked. “And a summer home in the Vineyard.”

“I prefer Cape Cod,” Ash said, using her best posh upper-class accent.

“Of course, darling. We’ll summer on the Cape,” he’d said with a smile. But he would always grow serious. “It could happen, right?” She hated when he got serious.

“Of course,” Ash said confidently. “We’re in this thing together,” Ash said.

“You said it. That’s a binding verbal contract. Now you’ll never get rid of me.”