07

"You're going out with Douglas, right?"

Five minutes before I asked that question, Astrid left to get us some drinks. She went back with a whole ass rack of beer, so within fifteen minutes of meeting her, we were already getting drunk.

"Yeah."

"You love him?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I can't picture him being in a serious relationship."

She laughed as she smacked my arm. "You're right!" She burped. "I don't love him. I'm only going out with him as a joke . . . it was a dare, so . . . besides, do I look like the kind of girl who'd prefer dicks over women's tits?"

That was the first time I had laughed. "No."

"Plus, I don't love anyone." That made me look at her. "I don't even think I'm capable of that."

I blinked. I dragged my forefinger across my beer and drew a lazy heart.

"That must be nice," I said. "To be incapable of loving. It's just a pain in the ass."

Astrid laughed.

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