after I passed out, he tucked me in one of the spare bedrooms and slept on the couch.”
Rachel gives me a cautious, side-eye glance. “Really? And you actually believe that he tucked you in and slept on the couch?” she parrots in distrust.
“Yeah. I do, actually.” If he tried something I’d know, right? And if he had done something, he certainly wouldn’t have asked to see me again. I look down at the palm of my hand, feeling the heat from the touch of his lips.
We ride in silence, turning onto State Street in the direction of the capital. State Street is the quintessential downtown stretch found in every college town—local retailers, affordable restaurants, used record shops, all with a kitschy vibe. But there’s something extra special about the strip here in Madison.
“Hey, can we stop somewhere and get some grease with a side of breakfast?” With coffee and aspirin already in my system, grease is the last key ingredient to ridding myself of this hangover.
Rachel smiles at my request. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We find our way to our favorite greasy spoon. It’s just a few blocks off of State Street and usually frequented by locals instead of the standard college crowd. We discovered this dive our freshman year and would grab breakfast here at least once every weekend as it was our surefire hangover cure. Although, the last time I was here I was surrounded by friends right before I went abroad. It was also the morning that I dumped Matt.
When we arrive, Jody squeals from behind the counter and comes around to meet me. She still has the same beautiful round face with friendly wrinkles highlighting her smile. Over the past four years, nothing about this place has changed, not even the wait staff.
“Oh, Ivy. It has been far too long, honey! Welcome home.”
In this moment I realize that Madison really is my home. I would give anything to stay here after graduation, but Wisconsin isn’t exactly the art capital of the northern hemisphere.
“Hi Judy. I’ve missed you!”
“Oh, honey. You haven’t missed me. You’ve just missed Bert’s famous pancakes. I, on the other hand, have missed your tips.” She teases with a wink. “Can I get you your usual?” After all this time, Jody still remembers my favorite.
“Of course.”
Rachel and I are both halfway through a pile of blueberry buttermilk pancakes with sausage links when my headache finally subsides. Grease really does work wonders. Now is as good a time as any, so I decide to ask the question, hesitant to let her know the motives behind the request. She would certainly never let me hear the end of it.
“How would you feel about sticking around for one more night before heading back to Chicago?”
Rachel’s fork hangs in the air as syrup drips down off of her pancake. She eyes me curiously, processing the request.
“Why?” she asks slowly.
I shrug. I should just tell her I’m not ready to see my family again just yet, but I’ve never lied to Rachel before and I’m not about to start lying to her now.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that guy Phoenix, would it?”
I feel my face blush scarlet as I think of that guy and mindlessly twist a piece of my hair between my fingers. “Phoenix is only in town for a few more days. He wants to go grab dinner tomorrow night,” I say casually.
The clanking of Rachel’s fork dropping against her plate startles me. “You want to see him again?” I realize how uncharacteristic this request must be to her. I could never stay faithful to Matt, and even then I never saw the same guy more than once.
“Yeah, I do. I feel kind of bad for passing out on him like that.”
Rachel mulls over my request for a moment and shrugs her shoulders.
“That’s fine. Plus it’ll give me one more night with Eric before he moves back home to Seattle next week.”
Ah, the mystery man has a name.
Rachel springs into a long-winded story about how she met Eric at a Halloween party when
Rachel gives me a cautious, side-eye glance. “Really? And you actually believe that he tucked you in and slept on the couch?” she parrots in distrust.
“Yeah. I do, actually.” If he tried something I’d know, right? And if he had done something, he certainly wouldn’t have asked to see me again. I look down at the palm of my hand, feeling the heat from the touch of his lips.
We ride in silence, turning onto State Street in the direction of the capital. State Street is the quintessential downtown stretch found in every college town—local retailers, affordable restaurants, used record shops, all with a kitschy vibe. But there’s something extra special about the strip here in Madison.
“Hey, can we stop somewhere and get some grease with a side of breakfast?” With coffee and aspirin already in my system, grease is the last key ingredient to ridding myself of this hangover.
Rachel smiles at my request. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We find our way to our favorite greasy spoon. It’s just a few blocks off of State Street and usually frequented by locals instead of the standard college crowd. We discovered this dive our freshman year and would grab breakfast here at least once every weekend as it was our surefire hangover cure. Although, the last time I was here I was surrounded by friends right before I went abroad. It was also the morning that I dumped Matt.
When we arrive, Jody squeals from behind the counter and comes around to meet me. She still has the same beautiful round face with friendly wrinkles highlighting her smile. Over the past four years, nothing about this place has changed, not even the wait staff.
“Oh, Ivy. It has been far too long, honey! Welcome home.”
In this moment I realize that Madison really is my home. I would give anything to stay here after graduation, but Wisconsin isn’t exactly the art capital of the northern hemisphere.
“Hi Judy. I’ve missed you!”
“Oh, honey. You haven’t missed me. You’ve just missed Bert’s famous pancakes. I, on the other hand, have missed your tips.” She teases with a wink. “Can I get you your usual?” After all this time, Jody still remembers my favorite.
“Of course.”
Rachel and I are both halfway through a pile of blueberry buttermilk pancakes with sausage links when my headache finally subsides. Grease really does work wonders. Now is as good a time as any, so I decide to ask the question, hesitant to let her know the motives behind the request. She would certainly never let me hear the end of it.
“How would you feel about sticking around for one more night before heading back to Chicago?”
Rachel’s fork hangs in the air as syrup drips down off of her pancake. She eyes me curiously, processing the request.
“Why?” she asks slowly.
I shrug. I should just tell her I’m not ready to see my family again just yet, but I’ve never lied to Rachel before and I’m not about to start lying to her now.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that guy Phoenix, would it?”
I feel my face blush scarlet as I think of that guy and mindlessly twist a piece of my hair between my fingers. “Phoenix is only in town for a few more days. He wants to go grab dinner tomorrow night,” I say casually.
The clanking of Rachel’s fork dropping against her plate startles me. “You want to see him again?” I realize how uncharacteristic this request must be to her. I could never stay faithful to Matt, and even then I never saw the same guy more than once.
“Yeah, I do. I feel kind of bad for passing out on him like that.”
Rachel mulls over my request for a moment and shrugs her shoulders.
“That’s fine. Plus it’ll give me one more night with Eric before he moves back home to Seattle next week.”
Ah, the mystery man has a name.
Rachel springs into a long-winded story about how she met Eric at a Halloween party when
Similar Books
