By the look on her dad’s face, he wasn’t expecting me. Still, he showed me into the living room.
I sat with her parents, pretending to watch a bland quiz show, interrupted by apologetic mutterings of “Ttt. Where has she got to?”
She had invited me over to draw me for her college project. Her shy way of inviting me into her bedroom. Politeness can be a curse. I didn’t know how to say no.
She was at the pub, waiting for me. She’d have a long wait.
We were never quite in the same place. Not then, not after.
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