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laughter of two girls approach the table next to mine. I tried to drown out their conversation, but I did hear something about a girl named “Felicity” being a complete traitor when she hooked up with “Grant Michelson” over the weekend.
    Grant was apparently sort of dating a different girl named “Tabitha.” Tabitha and Felicity were friends, and Felicity knew about Tabitha and Grant even before she hooked up with him. When Tabitha found out, it completely broke her heart.
    I realized that I’d been staring at my computer screen during their entire conversation and hadn’t even moved from the search page. This story was just too engrossing. I shifted my eyes over to them and one caught me staring.
    “She’s a girl,” she said, pointing in my direction. “Let’s ask what she thinks.” I felt myself shrink a little, not wanting to be pulled into their conversation—but totally willing to eavesdrop.
    “Excuse me,” she said. “But what would you think about someone who hooked up with her best friend’s man? She’d be a skank right?”
    “She’d be something, I guess,” I said, hoping my answer satisfied her so I could get back to book buying.
    “See,” she said and gestured to her friend. “Even a stranger thinks so.”
    “I’m just saying,” the other one began, looking at both of us, “maybe there’s more to this story than we know. Maybe Felicity liked Grant, too.”
    “Oh, like it matters. If that’s true then she should have told Tabitha.” I didn’t want to get any deeper in their conversation, so didn’t voice my opinion on the matter.
    A silence filled the coffee shop and I looked at them. One had blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail. Her makeup was a little too dark for her features, but she was pretty, and looked friendly. Her friend’s hair was light brown and rested at her shoulders. She was wearing black rimmed glasses and pushed them up her nose as she watched me. The blonde pointed to my bag of books. “Do you go to school here?”
    “No, I’m taking online classes from a non-local college. I did just move here, though.”
    “Oh, cool. You’ll like it,” she said, giving me a kind smile. “I’m Nicole and this is Lacey”
    “I’m Marlowe.”
    The next thing I knew, they were getting up and sitting down at my table, asking me all kinds of questions. What classes was I taking? Where did I move from? Did I have a boyfriend? Did I want one? They knew somebody. They liked my hair. Where did I get my bracelet?
    It was all a bit overwhelming, and I wondered how many people they’d done this to and how many had told them they were freaks and left. But I reminded myself that I didn’t have enough female friends and even though these girls seemed a little strange, I kind of liked that they jumped in my personal space and were trying to get to know me.
    Over the next thirty minutes, I answered all of their questions and we shared a few laughs. They even helped me find a site to buy my last book for super cheap. As I was leaving, Lacey smiled and said, “Congratulations, Marlowe. You’ve passed our test. We’re friends now.” I chuckled because I had no idea what to say to that. We exchanged numbers and agreed to get together for lunch later that week, and surprisingly, I was looking forward to it.
    By the time I began heading back home, it was around four in the afternoon. The sun was blazing and the air was humid. My A/C was still out, so the drive was utter torture. At every red light, I felt like I was going to die of dehydration. Of course, there was no wind either. Things cooled down when I was able to get on one of the main highways, but the damage had been done. My shirt was already damp. First thing tomorrow, I was taking her to a mechanic.
    When I finally made it to my driveway, I could have kissed the grass. I was sweaty and my hair was a mess. Without looking in a mirror, I knew my face was flush. No doubt any make-up I was wearing had smeared or melted