CHAPTER 9

HERE AM I IN MY LITTLE BUBBLE

I read To Kill A Mockingbird for English class in middle school, at least partially to learn about racism in the early 20th century. My teacher would probably not be pleased to know the main thing I remember from it years later is that things are always better in the morning. In my defense, it's true. Not that the rest of the book isn't true, but it's a truth from another world, one that grows ever more distant and foreign as decades pass. But some things are universal, and the cleansing effect of a good night's sleep is one.

So when I woke up Thursday morning, I was in a relatively good mood, prepared to put the previous night's drama behind me and get on with my life. After washing and dressing, I heard someone else in the shower on the way downstairs. I didn't think much of it, until downstairs I found the couch empty and my lunch packed in a sandwich bag. A smile crossed my face. I wasn't foolish enough to think this was the end of the road, but it was movement, and that was important. Easier to keep moving once you've started than to get started in the first place.

My mood got even better at school, where I was able to record some entertaining drama on my phone. But then French class happened. Eve didn't show. She wasn't on the bleachers at lunch either, and several texts went unanswered. When I checked with Kevin he said that nobody had seen her or Roxy all day. Rumors were flying, and of course Kevin suspected I would know something. I promised to tell him later.

After school, I sent a quick text to Aunt Diane saying I'd be late for dinner, then another to Eve asking again if she was okay. Neither text was answered, which was just as well- it meant nothing stopped me on the way to Sugar Tats.

Today was apparently a slow day at the tattoo parlor. There were no customers. Grace stood behind the counter, looking less than happy. Odette sat in one of the chairs up front, reading a magazine. Tucker didn't seem to be around. Laying extra low after last night, perhaps. As I walked in, the ringing of the bell brought all eyes to me. Odette gave me a bright smile. "Well, hey!", she said. "If it isn't Clyde Barrow himself!"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Clyde Barrow," Odette repeated.

I gave her a bewildered look.

"You know, as in Bonnie and Clyde?"

"Oh," I said.

"I have to say," Odette continued, "you move fast, honey! I mean, normally I wait for the third date to get arrested together."

I put my hand behind my head nervously. "Uh… well, it wasn't exactly something we planned…,"

Odette laughed. "Always so bashful! Don't be, a woman likes a man who shows her a little danger. Say, if you want some ink done, I can give a master criminal like you a discount on some prison-style work."

"No thanks, I don't intend to go to prison anytime soon," I said.

"You should, it might be a good growth experience for you. Did you know the real Clyde Barrow learned he was bisexual in prison?"

"Uhhhhh…," I said. Odette seemed to have me saying that a lot.

Grace cut in to our conversation. "Hey Odie, how do you feel about pizza for dinner?"

Odette shook her head no. "No thanks, I brought something."

"Then shut your mouth before I send you out to get some!", Grace snapped.

Odette recoiled at the attack. "Alright, fine… jeez, claws out today." She went back to her magazine, turning the pages petulantly.

I walked up to the counter. Grace gave me a look that was a mere curl of the lip away from a sneer. "Hey, um… is Eve around?", I asked. "She wasn't in school, and she's not answering her texts either. I'm a little worried…"

"Eve's upstairs," Grace said curtly.

"Oh," I said. "Is she, um… is she okay? Is she being punished?"

"Not by me," Grace said. "But she doesn't need me. Eve is very good at punishing herself. She's been up there all day, dead to the world. She wouldn't even get out of bed this morning."

"Ah," I said. "I'm, uhh… I'm sorry about what happened last night."

"From what I hear, you weren't the one who screwed up." Grace said.

"It just… it wasn't what it looked like," I said lamely.

Grace slammed the counter. "Oh, really? Then what was it? Because from what I've been able to gather, it looked like she got her hands on a Labrador-sized reefer, lit it up in public, got so high she decided the park was a dance club, got arrested, forced me to come down to the police station with a big chunk of this month's mortgage payment, and then to top it all off, nearly narked on me in the middle of the police station."

"That's not how it happened," I protested. Grace crossed her arms and glared at me, expecting an explanation. I had to think for a while how to continue. Almost a full minute passed in silence.

"Well, actually, that's pretty much exactly what happened," I admitted sheepishly.

Grace sighed tiredly and ran her hand through her hair. "Aaron, look, you're a good kid, but… Eve is the only family I've got left, and I need to be sure she's safe."

"I'm sorry, Grace," I said. "It won't happen again."

"It's not your fault, Aaron, I know that. Eve always wants to…" She trailed off. Her hands clenched and unclenched in frustration.

It suddenly occurred to me what an awful position Grace was in. She had barely even gotten her life together when he parents died, leaving her with no family. In a sense, she'd lost her little sister as well, and received in her place a daughter that she had to look after with no experience as a parent or guardian. A rebellious teenage daughter, at that. I couldn't imagine the kind of pressure she was under. And with Eve repeating many of the things she'd done in her wild child days, it must have felt like karmic punishment.

"She's been through a lot, hasn't she?", I said. "You both have."

Grace laughed humorlessly. "You have no idea. Aaron, you're a good kid, and Eve's a good kid too, but she needs somebody to rely on. Emotional support. I do my best, but I have my hands full just keeping a roof over our heads. I'm glad she's got you, I know she's been a lot happier since she's gotten to know you, but… I just can't shake the feeling that you're going to break her heart."

"I would never hurt Eve," I said.

"You can't make a promise like that. You don't know what it means," Grace said.

"Of course I don't," I said. "Who ever does? We don't know what the future will bring. All I know is that I can't stand seeing her unhappy."

"Why?", Grace asked.

The answer was 'Because I love her.' But I couldn't say that. What would Grace think? Would she be encouraged, or suspicious, or would she laugh in my face and dismiss it as the folly of youth? And when Grace told Eve, what would she think? So I fell back to the question before that question: why did I love Eve? Funny. In all this I had barely considered that, and when I had the question had frustrated me. But today, the answer was crystal clear:

"Because she was there for me when I was too stupid to know that I needed somebody."

Grace gave me a look that said I was either incredibly deluded or incredibly wise, and she had no idea which. Which was fair enough, given I wasn't too sure of it myself.

"Look," I continued, "can I talk to her? I don't know if I can make anything right, but… maybe I'll at least be able to get her out of bed."

I knocked on the bedroom door. "Eve?" No answer. I knocked again. "Eve, it's me. Are you in there?" Still no answer. I was hesitant to enter without permission, but it occurred to me that if Eve decided to leave the room out the window, the way I had that one time, Grace never would have known. "I'm coming in, okay?"

I pushed open the door and walked in. The room looked the same as before, albeit the clutter had been shuffled around. I noted Eve's hoodie lying crumpled on the desk, and a large, human-shaped lump lying face-down under the bedsheets, holding the pillow over her head. I shut the door behind me and walked over to the bed. "You asleep?", I asked. No answer. "Eve?"

"Yes, I'm asleep," said the lump in Eve's voice. "Go away."

I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sit up. Let me see you."

"No," she said flatly.

"I need to make sure you're alright," I said.

Her fingernails dug into the pillow. "I told you to go away."

"And I'm refusing," I said. "Funny thing, to force the issue, you'll have to get out from under those covers first. So I win either way."

No response.

"I can just stay here annoying you until you have no choice," I continued. "I've got all night."

"You're an asshole, Aaron," she said.

I snickered. "When it serves a greater good, yeah. Are you ticklish anywhere?"

With a sigh, Eve relented. She rose and drew herself up to a sitting position against the wall. The sheets still covered her legs and the pillow sat in her lap. She wore a dark gray tee tucked into the waistband of some pajama pants. Her hair was a mess, and her face was stuck in a morose frown. "Happy?", she asked.

"Not really. You look like hell," I said.

Eve flipped me off. I chuckled.

"You okay?", I said seriously.

"Yeah," Eve said. But when her eyes met mine, we both knew it was a lie. "Maybe," she said, looking away toward the wall. Her hands tightened before her composure broke. "No," she admitted, shutting her eyes tight with a sob. "I messed up. I messed up big."

"It's alright," I said weakly.

"No, it's not alright! I've ruined everything! For me, for you, for Grace… oh my god, Grace. How is she going to pay the bills now?! She took me in, looked after me, gave me this room, supported me in everything… she gave up her life for me, Aaron! Her happy, carefree, life. She gave it up for me!" The tears started flowing now. "And I went and threw it all away! I destroyed it just like…," she trailed off and buried her face in her hands, but it didn't stop the tears.

"Eve...", I began, but by now the sobs were coming openly, and I couldn't find the words. Instead I shifted closer and put my arm around her shoulder. "Come here," I said softly.

She collapsed into my arms and laid there, crying into my chest. She seemed so very frail right then, but I held her close, doing what I could to make her feel safe. I stroked her hair gently as she let it out. We stayed like that for awhile, until finally she straightened herself and sat up. Eve took a deep, cleansing breath, and let it out. Then she wiped away the tears. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she looked a little better. I rested a hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry, Aaron," Eve said, dodging my gaze. "You had to suffer for this, too. I should have..." She slumped back against the wall with a sigh. "This was a bad idea from the start. You should have talked me out of it."

"You wouldn't have listened.", I said. "If I had to put up with the shit you do on a daily basis, I wouldn't either. Or you would have obeyed to make me happy, then hated me for it. But it's okay, no apologies needed. So I got arrested for smoking pot in high school, big deal. Something to make my memoirs interesting one day, after I've become a famous celebrity, or politician, or mass murderer."

Eve gave a sardonic little laugh. She smiled, ever so slightly.

"And as for Grace," I continued, "two hundred dollars is not the end of the world. She complains about the money, but she's a strong woman, and so are you. You'll tighten your belts for a bit and it'll work out. Nobody's life is ruined. Look on the bright side, now you can cross Tyrone, Chad, Chico, and Annie off your revenge list."

Eve and shook her head. "I tore that list up last night. Project Last Laugh wasn't worth it."

I waited patiently for her to get it.

"Wait," Eve said. "What do you mean about Annie?"

With a small, fiendish smile, I took out my phone and played the video I'd taken earlier in the day. On the screen, Annie confronted Chad in the school hallways. Her hand pinched her nose shut. Other students milled around in the background, some covering their own noses. "Get out!", Annie screamed. "Get away from me! Euugh! I can taste it!"

"I'm sorry!", Chad said. "I can't do anything about it!"

"Oh my God, why didn't you wash?!", Annie said, going green in the face.

"I did! Twice!", Chad said. "It doesn't work, I have to wait for it to go away on its own."

"Get out!," Annie said. "Go home! That stench is a menace to the school!"

"I can't!", Chad said pleadingly. "I have too many absences, I'll flunk the year if I'm not in class…."

"I will arrange for a one-day waiver, go home and scrub your skin until it falls off!", Annie said.

"One day isn't going to cut it," Chad said. "It got all over my books too, here take a look..." He unzipped his backpack and Annie recoiled."

"No! No!", Annie said warningly. "Keep that thing away! Don't bring it over..."

"Here, look, they all got soaked in it…," Chad began, but Annie's retching cut him off.

Annie ran to a nearby garbage can- one of the big rolling ones the janitors used- and disgorged the contents of her stomach directly into it. Some of the students laughed in the background. Eve, watching the video, cracked up with a broad smile on her face.

Chad grimaced. "Oh, shit. Sorry, Annie, I didn't…"

Annie peeked up from the garbage and held up a single authoritative index finger, silencing Chad. "Get out of my school and go home right now, and you have my word you will not be punished. Go!"

Without another word, Chad turned and ran off out of the frame of the shot. Annie, looking pale, leaned back over the lid of the garbage can to vomit again, and yelped as she lost her footing and nearly tumbled into the can. The video ended there.

Eve doubled over in laughter. "Oh my God! That was priceless!"

"Oh, hell yeah!" I said, taking my phone back. "It was the talk of the whole school all day, I overheard it being discussed in five different periods, plus lunch."

Eve kept on laughing hysterically until she had to catch her breath. She was almost tearing up by the time she sputtered to a stop. When she did, she looked at me with the sweetest look I've ever seen on her face. "How do you do this, Aaron?"

"Do what?", I asked.

"Make me feel good," she said. "All the time, even when I'm down. I just can't feel bad around you."

I shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe I'm just charming."

She snickered. "Well, whatever it is, thanks."

I smiled. "What kind of a guy would I be if I let the people I care most about wallow in misery?"

She just smiled back at me. That smile made me feel warm and purposeful inside. I looked away before the whole just-staring-at-each-other thing started to feel awkward.

"Well...", I said, "I'd love to stick around, but I should get home before my family starts to worry. Will you be okay?"

Eve nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I should get out of bed and do something. Maybe microwave some dinner, I missed breakfast and lunch today."

She threw off the sheets and we both stood up. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, okay?", I said.

"You got it," Eve said.

"And don't worry about last night," I added. "In five years this'll be a story we all tell at Christmas parties. Hell, Odette's already joking about it. Did you hear what she called us?"

She looked at me expectantly.

"Bonnie and Clyde," I said.

Eve sputtered out a laugh, covering her mouth to prevent herself from doubling over again. "Seriously?"

"Ask her yourself. This is our new rep: Aaron and Eve, outlaw couple," I said.

Eve laughed again. "I don't think you would look very good in a 30's suit."

"Eh…," I said, making a waffling gesture. "You'd look great in a dress, though."

Eve shook her head. "Oh, no, dresses are not my thing."

I shrugged. "Give it a try sometime. You might like it." I walked to the door and grabbed the doorknob.

"Aaron?", Eve said.

"Hmm?", I turned around, and a second later Eve essentially tackled me. Before I knew it she had both arms around my chest, pressing her face into my shoulder. Initially surprised, I soon returned the embrace. Her body was warm in my arms, and she smelled nice. Really nice. Not like floral shampoo, as usual. More like… a faint musk. Unshowered. But not unpleasant. I held her for awhile, then had to disengage before I embarrassed myself.

"Thanks again, Aaron," she said. "You're the best."

"I try," I said. "See you tomorrow."

I arrived home to a slightly cold dinner and the prophesied "talk" from previously, about how drugs are bad, etc.. It was lighter than I expected, honestly- I suppose that neither Mom nor Diane considered me a potential recidivist. That, or pot really wasn't a big deal like it used to be.

Roxy had it much harder then Eve and I- she had to plead guilty to resisting arrest and spend several weeks of the summer in an unflattering orange vest picking up trash along the highways. And she would hold a grudge, which would shortly come back to haunt us. But other than that, the law and our families were done punishing us.

High school, of course, was still high school. By the morning, everybody knew everything. I was expecting to get shit for it. But the reaction was quite the opposite. We were heroes to the student body. People pointed at us and whispered to their friends when they saw me pass. Several actually came up and asked me if I knew where to buy drugs. I told them all no. I had to continue telling them this for a week or so until the drama died down.

Mind you, it wasn't all glory. There were others to whom we were the scum of the earth. Annie was firmly in the latter camp, and smelled some glory of her own if she could catch us in the act. She kept sharp eyes on us, like a predator waiting for her prey to grow weary. I brushed it off- Annie would be Annie. But what I couldn't brush off was the three dudes who were very, very concerned about where we had gotten our pot.

It was lunchtime when I met up with them. I was walking to meet Eve out at the bleachers when I saw Tyrone down the hall. He saw me as well. Our eyes met, and his narrowed to menacing slits. He gestured to his comrades, and they walked down the hall three abreast towards me. They made an intimidating group, but I refused to run. I had to face up to the consequences of my actions. Better me than Eve. Be brave, I told myself.

I marched towards them. A few steps apart, I waved. "Hey, Tyrone!", I called, loud enough to turn a few bystanders into potential witnesses. We stopped right in front of each other, Chico and Chad standing to each side of Tyrone. They were all uncomfortably close, though fortunately they had managed to deodorize themselves somehow since yesterday. All three were ready for a fight, but nobody made a move. Yet.

I spoke first. "Say, about those cookies..."

Tyrone glared coldly. "Cookies?"

"Yeah," I said, "the ones Eve and I borrowed from you the other day, remember? Because, well, we've had about enough, and we'd like to return them."

Tyrone nodded slowly. "Now," he said. Not as a question.

"Well, I don't have them on me, but..." I leaned in close and whispered. "If you're willing to discuss this like gentlemen, we should find someplace a bit more private to talk."

Tyrone took a long look at me, considering. Then he snapped his fingers like a dog trainer. The four of us walked on, Tyrone ahead, Chad and Chico behind, and me walking in between them, like a prisoner under guard. Several students looked on as we moved down the hallway. We ducked through a wooden double door into a stairwell with an alarmed emergency exit at the far end. These particular stairs were hardly used, and had an alcove underneath the stairway itself. Good place to conduct clandestine business. Or to administer a beatdown.

We walked to the far end and ducked into the alcove. It was dark and claustrophobic, especially with Chico and Chad standing by outside, blocking off potential escape. Tyrone turned to look me in the eyes. He crossed his arms. "Talk," he said.

I took a deep breath before beginning. "Yes, it was Eve and I that stink bombed you and stole your stash the other night. Roxy had nothing to do with it; we just happened to run into her and hung out a bit. When we got busted by the cops, she created a distraction and..."

"Where is it?!", Tyrone said, breathing down my neck. I held up my hands for calm.

"I ditched it in the bushes.," I said.

Three jaws dropped. "YOU WHAT?!" Tyrone bellowed. He was right in my face. My eardrums winced and I felt tiny beads of spittle on my skin. I tried to keep cool.

"It's near the bench along the north path, just past the big tree," I said. "I'm not sure exactly wher..."

"It was there," Tyrone yelled. "Two days ago it was there! By now somebody else found it. Or some dog had a snack, blew his mind, and turned it into dogshit!"

"Man, let's pulverize...", Chad stepped forward, fists clenched.

"I do the talking, Chad!", Tyrone said.

"I think we've heard enough talk...", Chad continued, but Tyrone made a commanding gesture and stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm sorry..." I said, "I know, it was stupid, it was disrespectful, but if you think for a minute, you'll see that the results are good for you."

Tyrone laughed right in my face. "How much of my shit you been smoking, white boy? How exactly is this a good thing? Do you know what that much weed costs?!"

"A lot, I'm sure," I said, "but if we hadn't stolen it..."

"Then it'd still be mine!" Tyrone said.

"Exactly!", I said.

Tyrone glared. "You've got about five seconds to start making sense, kid."

"The cops were out last night, Tyrone," I said. "They were on patrol all over, looking for the supplier. They arrested us, and ditching the stash is the only reason we're not in a cell right now. If we hadn't taken it, then it would have been you they caught with it. Think for a minute what would have happened then."

Tyrone scoffed. "Man, we can run from the cops!"

"And they can chase you," I said. "And if they had caught you, do you know how much you had in that bag? Almost a full pound. Sixteen ounces! That's intent to distribute. That's hard time. They'll take one look at you and figure they've found the supplier they're looking for."

Tyrone stepped closer, towering over me, and looked down to look me in the eyes. And when he did, I saw something curious. A lot of anger, but also something… trembling. Fearful. Of me?, I thought. No, I realized. Of himself. Of what he was about to do. Chico, and Chad moreso, had narrowed eyes, clenched fists, and murderous faces. They were absolutely ready to come to blows. But Tyrone, bigger and meaner than both of them, was struggling to avoid a fight.

"So let me get this straight," he said. "You stole my shit, got busted for being a dumbass, threw it away to save your own skin, and you're telling me I should be grateful?"

I stood straight and tried to keep my voice calm. I looked Tyrone dead in the eyes, hoping I could stare right into his soul. "Do you want to hit me, Tyrone? Do you need to sock me in the gut to prove that you're big and bad? Do you want to show why you run this crew? If that's what you want, then go ahead and hit me. But that doesn't change anything. You screwed up, keeping a stockpile like that on you, and it was only our stupidity and your good luck that the consequences fell on us instead of you. Now, if you want to be a thug about it, then..."

Tyrone balled up a fist and threw it right at my stomach. I doubled over, clutching my gut, then fell to my hands and knees gasping and struggling for breath. Tyrone grabbed my by the back of my collar, hauled me to my feet, and shoved me back against the wall. Behind him, I saw Chad and Chico wincing. "Damn," Chico said softly.

Tyrone advanced until he was again in my face. "You got a big mouth, white boy, calling me a thug. I've got half a mind to show you just how much of a thug I can be, but that won't get me my stash back. Besides, if you're pussy enough to crumple from one shot like that, it won't be satisfying." He stabbed two fingers into the air an inch or so in front of my face. "I'll let you off easy this time. But don't you EVER talk to me like that again. Ever! In fact, I don't want to hear so much as a 'Hello' from you OR that blue-haired bitch for as long as we all live. Don't you talk to me, don't you come around my park, and don't you ever, EVER lay a finger on my stash again. You got it?"

I nodded, still clutching my stomach.

"Alright," Tyrone said. He took a step back. Turning to his lackeys, he said, "We done here." Tyrone walked to the door, Chico and Chad following obediently behind him. I heard the door open and close. Just before it slammed shut, I heard Chico speak. "Jesus, Tyrone, you could have busted his spleen..."

After they were gone, I took a deep breath to steady myself. My arm dropped to my side, as my stomach was actually feeling just fine. Tyrone hadn't actually hit me, after all. In the dimness of the alcove, it had looked like he did, but his fist had stopped about half an inch short of my skin. I hadn't been sure he would pick up the signals I had sent, but it had been worth a try, and it paid off.

When I'd seen that look in Tyrone's eyes, I had realized just how badly I'd misjudged him as a person. Tyrone was more than just Tyrone, he was also MC Gatt, aspiring rap star. As such, he cultivated a persona that got him respect in that community- tough, hard, mean. And he surrounded himself with lackeys to whom hard and mean was cool. To keep their respect, he had to live up to his reputation. At the same time, though, he knew it was an act. He understood there was a wide gulf between acting mean and being mean, and being mean had consequences. His crew didn't understand this; they thought mean meant strength and power. To them, bashing my face in was the obvious and right course of action. Hence Tyrone, leader of the pack, needed a way to satisfy their desire to look tough without actually being tough. Too far, and they'd all be in trouble. Too soft, and they'd doubt his worthiness. I offered him a way out, and he took it. Tyrone was a big fake, I had known that from the start. What I hadn't realized was that Tyrone knew he was fake. He was able to assume this big, bad persona and yet still hold on to his real self.

I briefly wondered how Chico and Chad would get by without him, once graduation scattered the whole senior class to the winds. Would they be able to keep grounded by themselves, or would they keep trying to be tough and get wrecked without Tyrone to hold them back? But that was none of my business. My business with Tyrone had been concluded, on terms that ultimately benefited everyone. I mentally wished them all well, and went on with my own life.

I made my way out to the bleachers to meet up with Eve for lunch. I made it a point to clutch my stomach and look mildly uncomfortable along the way, just in case the rumor mill was watching. I don't know if they took note, but Eve certainly did. "You okay?" she asked between bites of a ham and cheese sandwich. "You look sick."

"I'm fine," I said, taking the seat next to her. "Just drama."

"What kind of drama?" Eve asked, concerned.

"I'll tell you later," I said. But when I faced Eve, she had a look of such worry in her eyes that I relented. "I ran into Tyrone, and he wasn't happy about what happened to his stash."

Eve gasped. "Shit! Did he hit you?!"

"No," I said, "but if anybody asks, say he did,"

Eve raised her eyebrow, perplexed. "Why?"

"Because he did have to pretend to hit me to keep his tough guy rep. And I have to maintain the illusion until at least the end of lunch. And we've been banished from his sight forevermore, so no more drawing by the fountain," I said while unpacking my lunch. The plastic sandwich bag opened with a satisfying pop. "On the bright side," I continued, "it looks like it's the end of this particular drama."

"Here's hoping," Eve said. She sighed and looked off into the middle distance. "God, what a week it's been."

"More high school than usual," I agreed.

"Yeah," she said, not looking at me. "And most of it my fault."

I groaned. "Come on, Eve, don't be like that. At the end of it all, I'm fine, you're fine, nobody got hurt. Maybe we made some mistakes, sure, but we'll learn from them. It was an adventure, and I'm glad we could share it."

Eve snickered. "Oh, so we've gone from Bonnie and Clyde to wizard and warrior, now?"

I shrugged. "Well, you'd make a good wizard. You rock the hooded cloak look already. I think I'm more of a gallant rogue, though."

"Gallant, huh?", Eve said skeptically.

I gave her my best Han Solo grin. Eve smiled back. "Well, I suppose you could manage it," she said. "At a bit of a stretch, maybe." Before I could say anything, she added: "Oh, by the way, Aaron, did I tell you about Grace's thing tomorrow?"

"Ah…," I said, caught off guard, "no, you didn't, what thing?"

"Well," she said, "Odette's tattoo gun broke, and Grace can't afford a replacement because… umm…," she brushed her hair back and bit her lip. Because she spent that money bailing her little sister out of jail, obviously. "Anyway," Eve continued, "she made some calls, and was able to borrow one from an old friend from tattoo school, in exchange for taking her out to dinner to catch up. So she and Odette are doing that tomorrow night, and they'll be out late."

"So you'll be home alone?", I asked, having an idea where this was going.

"Yeah, looks like it. And, you know, it'll be lonely and a little creepy being in the house all by myself. So, um…," she turned to me with a small smile. "you doing anything?"