Chapter 3Now: Koa
The pizza arrived before I could ask any none-of-my-business questions. Loren ran us each a tall glass of filtered tap water. We ate like it was our last meal, barely talking at all. It wasn’t exactly late, but we’d both been on set by seven o’clock, and of course Loren took a solid hit—twice—so I didn’t feel awkward about the lack of conversation. When he finally stopped eating (four out of eight slices; I don’t know where he put it all) and sat back, I said, “Good work.”
He produced a wheezing sort of laugh. “I don’t usually eat that much.”
“What’s on your schedule tomorrow?”
For whatever reason, he didn’t seem to think that was a non sequitur. “Shift at the law firm. Two to ten. You?”
“I’m at an urgent care right now.”
“Full time?”
I closed the pizza boxes (I at
