Eighteen: ReedI was grateful that my hands were busy with scraping dishes, because I had no idea what to do or say or think. The entire day had been maddening. I'd texted Rose forty-seven times after I drove home that morning, and the most I got from her was to wear something nice and to be 'normal.' That is the worst advice ever. This was not normal. But it was better than normal. For the first time, it felt like if I leaned over to kiss her, actually kiss her, Rowyn might not hit me. The dishes went quickly, and there was an easy silence between us, not unlike our meditation from earlier. There was a growing fear in my chest that if we didn't find common ground that night, the opportunity might fade. That can't happen.
“Hey,” I began. I really hadn't thought my full sentence through bef
