I hesitate. “Uh… sort of.”
“Someone special?” she asks. She’s assuming that I’m here to meet a man.
I resist the urge to laugh in her face at the mere notion.
“Just a friend,” I say diplomatically as I reach for a curly fry.
“Okay, well, if you need anything, just holler. My name is Casey. You enjoy now!” she chirps, headingoff back to the counter.
I pop the curly fry into my mouth and immediately take a one-way trip to greasy, delicious heaven.
It also reminds me just how hungry I am. That’s surprising. It’s been a while since I’ve beeninterested in food.
Apparently, freedom can do wonders for your appetite.
The next fry is just as good. So is the third.
I’m halfway done with my curly fries by the time I see Vanessa come out of the building. She looksfrom side to
