THE HOURS I SPEND WITH DOLORES ARE SIMILAR TO WHAT it was like with $isi. They look nothing alike, but when I look at Dolores, it’s like $isi is superimposed over her, and I have to keep doing mental double takes. Maybe it’s something in their gestures. Or maybe the way they both eat sloppily. Or the constant chatter – first childhood crush, first pet, first serious injury, how much textbooks cost, coming back here for Spring Break, how gross ham is but how delicious bacon is, what she thinks of – These are the sorts of inane tidbits $isi has offered before, just as frantically, to cover her nervousness over being with me.
Dolores and I part for a few hours, then we have another dinner – takeout Thai, which I think is disgusting but which she loves.
Later, we f**k again. She stays overni
