i

I look down at the turquoise crow dangling from the silver chain on my wrist.
) knew that was a bullshit story, ) say. The kid, the druggie, was in one of my
classes the term before that. I was just buying it to be nice to him and get a gift for
myself. ) had found out about Dales girlfriend in Palm Springs that morning. On my
credit card bill. )t was going to be my last nice thing for a while. ) take a sip of my tea.
)t didnt have enough sugar, and the bitterness slides down my throat.
Chunta pulls the rubber band out of his hair, and his hair falls in around his face. He
runs both hands through it, keeping his eyes on me.
) couldnt even see what was going on in my own life, Chunta. (ow could ) see the
rest of the world? The personal isnt always political. Sometimes were just people.
(e doesnt say anything, but finally breaks his gaze from me back to his cup of tea.
But that day in July, ) saw you. Felt you. And then you just left. Thats personal.
But you took his call.
Yeah, about a tennis racket.
) couldnt imagine he would just leave you, Louise.
Why the hell not? You did.
But ) came back.
Came back?
Yeah, ) paid good money to take your class. ) came here today. ) am here right now.
But why did you start any of this? Why did you touch me like that?
) was lonely, he says. And you were too.
True, ) say.
He reaches out a hand. I let him rest it on my knee. He looks up at me. I nod, and he
moves his hand higher.
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