Page 24 of Things I Read About

“Even my fishnets and spikes might not be enough,” Kat says, staring out at the mountain.

I met them for lunch on the resort’s large wooden patio, since I can’t ski until my ankle heals. It’s cold out but bright, sunny, and cheery.

“You want to go find a tattoo parlor and get a tramp stamp real quick?”

“Kat!” Janie chokes on her beer.

“Sorry. I just really miss sex. And dating, even. It was easy when Lucy was a toddler.” Kat sighs. “Then, in first grade, she told her teacher all about my shirtless sleepovers and how hairy boy chests are, and that was the end of that.”

“Lucy’s not here this week,” I offer.

Kat nods. “Oh, I’m aware. I am just also very tired and not sure I want to trade a kid-less night’s sleep on 3000-thread count hotel sheets for what will probably be a mediocre lay that leaves me feeling even more lonely afterward.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” I agree with Janie. “Damn.”

“My bad, y'all!” Kat chugs the remainder of her Mai Tai. “There are some bonafide hotties here, that’s for sure. I’ll keep an eye out. Back to you, though.” She looks past me. “I say you nurse that ankle so you’re good to go for tonight, and if Nate doesn’t show, put poor Evan out of his misery.”

I frown at her. “Who’s Evan?”

“The bartender who was droolin' over you while you were droolin' over the assassin.”

“Yeah, he is super cute,” Janie agrees.

“I guess.”

“Hey.” Kat shoves my knee with hers under the table. “You’re not marrying the guy, it’s just a fling. A few days of pretend before your life is taken over by med school, right?” She nods and then continues. “So, who cares if Nate doesn’t come around. This resort is full of plenty of Nates.”

I look at the crowd shuffling around, then out to the mountain covered with skiers. I understand what she’s saying about plenty of fish in the sea,origin unknown, 1573,but I don’t spot a single guy anywhere near as captivating as Nate. His mysterious eyes, built body, and that smirk. I can’t stop thinking about the one time he grinned, replaying it in my mind like a Bach piece.

“We’ve lost her,” Kat says loudly.

“Huh?”

“I would love to be a fly on the wall of your big brain.” Janie smiles down at me. They’re both standing over me. “We said we’re going to run a few more times, then we’ll meet you back at the room, girl genius.”

My phone starts to buzz—again—as they head out.

Susan: I’ll stop pestering you if you just tell me what is going on with your ankle?!

Susan: Sam said you were night skiing?!

Sally: Yes, and it’s barely a sprain, Suze. It’s fine.

Susan: But did you go to urgent care or self-diagnose?

Sally: Yes, I went to the clinic here.

Susan: And night skiing? Who are you and what have you done with scaredy Sally?

Scaredy Sally. Soft, Sweet, Slow Poke Sally. Space Cadet Sally.

I stare at my phone, tempted to type a novella to my sister about how and why I earned that nickname. My hypothesis is that I wouldn’t actually have been so afraid growing up if I hadn’t noticed that my safety and happiness was the key to my entire family’s well-being after Mom died.

At least Sally is doing well.

We’ve just got to look out for Sally.