He nodded, but almost seemed disappointed by her answer. Once again they were keeping everything that really wanted to be said just under the surface, and it seemed as if the truth had a life of its own, like a person coming up for air, and they kept pressing its head back under the water.

But then softly, he smiled at her, and then softly, she smiled back, and her whole body melted, and her heart banged alive in her chest -- like someone waking up in a coffin and demanding to break out and be free again. She was startled by the feeling in her chest, she had forgotten it was possible.

She wanted to laugh with him, and make love to him, and she wanted to know every deep dark secret. She wanted to take trips with him, and meet his mother. She wanted to have his baby, and watch his world change. She wanted to make dinner for him in the kitchen, and make out with him on the  ...

Amy liked how he just assumed she was so healthy. Healthy was new to her since Leanne’s guidance, but she realized she liked Louis assuming she treated herself well. She used to find debauchery, and downing pills with red wine, sexy; now she felt sexy taking care of herself with green juice and kale.

She felt comfortable, standing there naked in body and mind, talking to him. It felt as if who she was right at that moment, not who she could be, was enough. And while he was attractive, he wasn’t one of those devastating men who had a waiting list of women.

“No,” Amy shook her head, “I can do it myself.” After having been so weakly dependent on Jimmy, then a winter of mummified dependence on Leanne, Amy relished doing everything herself.

The hammering vibrated through her body and she looked up, and saw a young man, younger than her by a few years at least, on a roof of a cabin to the right of the main building. He looked down at her and he stopped work for a moment. He had a guarded look, almost mean. Either mean, or cool.  ...

She remembered standing in front of the Bowery Ballroom venue a million times, under-dressed, over-made-up and teetering in heels, getting her name checked off the list for a show before she headed in to drink 10 free vodka cranberries in the air-conditioned dark backstage, make eyes with some  ...

Jack Fletcher had walked in in his big red flannel jacket, and he wasn’t alone. He was holding a thin shiny blond girl’s hand whom Amy recognized from that awkward morning at Yoga. He nodded at Danny, but his eyes moved right over Amy, like she wasn’t even there.

She could see the yellow yolk of the full moon bleeding over the water outside. She couldn’t wait to run down the beach again. If she closed her eyes, she could feel her feet sinking into the sand and the cool rush of salty air on her skin. She rubbed at her thin legs under her long white nightgown.