MONICA
Once the wine was finished, Monica staggered from the closet, leaving a trail of
clothes behind her, and crawled into bed without brushing her teeth or washing her
face. She remembered writing the letter as if it were yesterday.
Unopened textbooks lay scattered across the dorm room floor, alongside four or five
half-empty teacups and an open bag of Doritos. Monica could hear the girls in the
next room guffawing while their stereo blasted Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out.” She
resisted the urge to scream Shut up! and remind them that the summer semester wouldn’t
be over for another few weeks.
Picking up the ballpoint pen, she turned her attention back to the spiral notebook.
Dear Lily: Where do I begin? The questions all seem trite given the way we ended.
Monica closed her eye
