“Nick didn’t want to embarrass her,” Anne continues. “The people at the party last night, most of them don’t even know Nick that well, so it’s not like he’s going to go around and tell all of them that Kallie cheated on him. I don’t think he cares much what they think. So that’s why some of them still think Nick and Kallie are together.”

I digest this for a minute.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask.

Anne shrugs.

“I think Nick really likes you,” she says. “I just didn’t want Kallie, of all people, to screw things up.”

Nick’s waiting outside the restaurant when I finish my shift at four.

“I hear Anne came to see you,” he says when I walk out. I look at him for a moment and nod. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t ask her to.”

“She told me about Kallie,” I say. Nick nods. He sits down on the curb, and I join him.

“I know,” he says after a moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain last night. I had a long talk with her about how she needs to leave me alone and stop trying to get me back. That’s why I was gone so long. When I was done, I couldn’t find you.”

“I thought you’d left with her or something,” I say.

“I wouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh.” I hesitate for a moment and add, “Look, I’m sorry too. I never drink. I know I acted like an idiot last night.”

Nick shakes his head.

“Yeah, well,” he says. “I have to say that you’re not exactly at your most attractive at the keg.” I look at him for a minute and realize he’s fighting back a grin. I laugh and playfully punch him in the arm.

“Thanks a lot,” I say.

There’s a moment of silence between us.

“Can I ask you something?” Nick blurts out suddenly. “Last night, you had me drop you off at the Star Light,” he says, nodding across the parking lot at the chipped and peeling motel. “Do you really live there?”

“Yes,” I say simply.

“Why?” he asks.

Instead of answering, I say, “Would you walk me home?”

Nick nods and we walk in silence across the parking lot to the motel. I unlock the door to room 112, and Nick follows me inside. I watch as he takes everything in. His eyes rove from the faded, peeling carpet to the broken dresser to the bed that sags in the middle to the dirty walls, finally alighting on the Raid canister sitting on the nightstand.

“You have bugs?”

“A whole family of roaches,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m getting used to them.”

“You are?” Nick asks.

I think for a minute, then laugh. “No, actually, I’m not,” I admit. “I can hardly sleep. I hate them.”