Flint
I don’t know what my plan is. It’s almost one, which means she’ll be almost off work by the time I get there, if not entirely. I know her boyfriend picks her up from work, so it’s not like I can sweep in and take her home. Besides, I don’t want her to see me in this condition.
Or maybe I do. Maybe a part of me wants to prove something to her. It’s stupid, but I feel like I’m too clean, too innocent, for her. I need to show her that I can be bad, too.
How old am I? When did I time travel back to high school?
I also want to see her boyfriend. I have to know what he looks like—what he acts like.
And to see her dance again, if only for a few minutes.
The cover charge is only twenty that night, instead of thirty, which is something. On top of the cab fare to get here and back home,
