Chapter 8

They sat on the sidewalk for another five minutes. The heat sat with them, settling further into Sutton's skin. The evening sun played off Ada's face and Sutton had to remind herself not to stare.

"Do you want me to take you back to your car now?" Ada asked.

"Sure," Sutton smiled.

"You wanna get some food first, though?"

"God, yes. I'm starving."

They pulled into the Steak 'n' Shake near their high school. Sutton ordered a burger and peanut butter shake; Ada ordered a strawberry shake without food.

"They still have bad vegetarian options here?" Sutton asked.

Ada laughed. "You and your creepy memory. Yeah, bad options, plus I have fresh groceries at home."

"How adult of you."

"It's the one adult thing I'm good at."

Sutton looked down to the console and tapped her fingers on the miscellaneous coins gathered there. "So..." she said. "Where is home for you, anyway?"

"Midtown."

Sutton smiled. "I could have guessed."

Ada pulled forward to pay for their food. Sutton tried to treat, but Ada swatted her hand away. "You can get next time," she said.

Next time. The words settled in Sutton's stomach with blessed warmth.

"I was just thinking..." Ada said, "You should come see my place soon, if you want. No rush, I mean, I understand that could be weird--"

"No, that would be awesome."

Ada handed over her food, a nervous grin on her face. "Don't get too excited, it's nothing special. My roommate is a slob and--"

"You have a roommate?"

"Yeah, are you kidding? Midtown is expensive."

Sutton felt weirdly jealous. "Will I meet her?"

"Of course."

"Okay. Well...it's a plan."

"Okay," Ada grinned. Then she pulled back onto the main road that led to the interstate, and Sutton sat back in her seat and let the moment seep into her.

They didn't speak much on the drive back, but Sutton felt no pressure about it. She felt more alive, more attuned to her senses, than she had in years. The taste of her hot burger, the sting of her cold shake, the smell of fast food grease, the sound Ada's car made while it cruised south to the city, the sight of the Buckhead skyline looming into view with its glowing windows... and accompanying it all, the intangible feeling of being here with Ada, of breathing the same oxygen she was breathing, of soaking up the dynamite of her presence. Sutton's heart was stretching inside her, making room to welcome back the one person it had always beat for.

When they reached the office parking lot, Ada turned her car's ignition off and looked over to Sutton with a half-smirk on her face.

"What?" Sutton asked, a smirk shifting into place on her own face.

Ada shrugged. "Thinking about how dumb we are. And how funny life is."

Sutton didn't say anything, just allowed herself to look at Ada. Ada looked back at her, taking her in, making Sutton feel she was worth looking at.

Then Ada cleared her throat. "We'll go slowly."

Sutton smiled. "We'll go slowly."

They looked at each other for another few seconds, then Sutton laughed self-consciously and leaned forward to pull Ada into a hug. "Thanks," she said, without knowing exactly what she was thanking her for.

"Thank you," Ada said.

Sutton squeezed her tight, then got out of the car while she could still help it.

She played an old CD from high school on her drive home. It was a mix she had found back in March, when she had still been living in Knoxville. She had tried to listen to it then but had turned it off after the first two tracks because it made the past feel too present.

Tonight she listened to it without stopping. Ashlee Simpson and Panic! at the Disco and Nelly Furtado and Three 6 Mafia - all these artists she and her friends had played over and over on their way to football games and Taco Mac and house parties.

Tonight she was simultaneously a teenager and a 25-year-old, and she was okay with that.

When she got home and skipped upstairs to her old bedroom, she gathered Wilson Phillips in her arms and held her close.

"I thought I'd lost her," she whispered into the cat's fur. Wilson Phillips began to purr and Sutton stood there experiencing the vibration, hearing her own words echo in her head, feeling her heart keep stretching inside her chest.

"Hello?"

"Ade?"

"Sutton?"

Sutton exhaled and paced across the room. "How'd you know it was me?"

Ada laughed awkwardly. "You mean other than your voice? Uh--well, I recognized your phone number."

"You did?"

"Did you still have my number saved?"

Sutton panicked for a beat before she decided on the truth. "No," she admitted. "I just--still had it memorized."

Ada was silent on the other end of the line.

"Sorry," Sutton blustered. "I mean, if that's weird--"

"No, no, of course not. I was just letting it settle."

"Okay."

"So--what's up?"

"Um," Sutton said. "Well--I called to thank you for dinner. I forgot to say it in the car."

Ada took a second to reply. "You're welcome."

Silence hovered on the line.

"Uh--sorry," Sutton said again. "Maybe it was premature for me to call you."

"No," Ada said, and Sutton knew she wasn't placating her. "We're just relearning."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right."

"You really had my number memorized?"

Sutton's face heated. "Not on purpose. Not, like, in a creepy way."

Ada laughed into the phone. "I still remember things like that, too." She hesitated, then went on. "Your grandpas' names, your mom's favorite perfume...weird stuff."

"No way you remember my grandpas' names."

"Gus and Bernie."

Sutton fell silent.

Ada laughed nervously. "See? You have to let it settle."

"Yeah," Sutton breathed.

They were both silent again.

"Well--I'll see you tomorrow?" Sutton asked.

"Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Sutton."

"Goodnight, Ada."

Sutton tapped the red "End" button and held the phone in her hand, blinking at the recorded call time, the proof that she and Ada had had a bedtime phone call for the first time since they were teenagers.

Sutton’s stomach was happily anxious on the drive to work the next morning. Here she was, three days out from the retreat, and her emotional landscape was radically different from how it had lay only yesterday.

She sipped from her thermos of coffee and jabbed the radio buttons on her dash, her nerves buzzing with energy. She pictured Ada driving to work in her own car, reaching down for her thermos of coffee and accidentally brushing her fingers against the straw wrappers the two of them had left in the console the night before.

The traffic was fluid today. The sky was an early morning blue. The radio personalities were tittering about pop culture. It was a new day and the summer sun was high and the city was buzzing, but no one was as alive as Sutton.

Her eyes found Ada as soon as she walked into the office. Ada was already at her desk, her head bent toward her computer screen, her hair tied up in a perfect knot.

“‘Morning,” Sutton said as she walked past her. She tried to say it casually, cavalierly, so as not to draw attention from their coworkers—but she felt a rush in her chest that she was sure carried into her voice.

“Hey,” Ada said, her voice warm and clear, her eyes lighting up.

The rush in Sutton’s chest swelled upward to her head, making her giddy. She squeezed her fists together to dispel the excess energy and walked purposefully to the legal nook, promising herself she could talk more with Ada later.

When she had settled into her seat and turned her computer on for the day, she chanced a look at the sales nook. Ada met her eyes immediately—she must have been checking every few seconds to see if Sutton was looking in her direction.

Sutton thought she might burst with giddiness. It was like high school, this feeling. It was like walking into a classroom, making eye contact with Ada, and trading smiles for no reason. It was that perfect secret of knowing they understood each other beyond anything else in the room.

Sutton grinned and shrugged in Ada’s direction. Ada chewed her lip to fight down her smile before she returned her attention to her work.

Naturally they ended up in the break room at the same time.

“How’s legal stuff today?” Ada asked while she re-filled the coffee pot.

“Oh, you know…legal-ish.”

“Legal-ish,” Ada repeated, laughing.

“Do you want some grapefruit?” Sutton asked, showing her the pieces she was cutting.

“Sure,” Ada smiled. “Is this a new thing with you? Grapefruit?”

“It’s me trying to act like I make healthy choices.”

Ada leaned against the counter, smiling easily, her knobby elbows making sharp angles in her cardigan. "Like that burger last night?"

"Exactly."

"Still the Sutton I know, then."

Sutton bit into a grapefruit slice to hide her smile, but she was sure Ada recognized it, for Ada fought down a shy smile and turned to pour from the coffee pot.

“Do you drink coffee every day now?" Sutton asked her. "You used to hate going to Starbucks.”

“That’s because the only thing our stupid high school friends wanted to drink were frappuccinos. I guess I equated coffee with that. But when I got out of college and discovered black coffee, I was hooked.”

“You would be that person who drinks black coffee.”

“It’s delicious. And it’s good for you.”

“I have to take mine with cream and sugar.”

“How many of each?”

“Mm, I don’t know…like two creams, two sugars?”

“I’ll remember that.”

Sutton coughed out a laugh. “Filing it away with all the other new details?”

“Yeah," Ada laughed, "like the cat."

Sutton was about to tease Ada in return when Debbie clacked into the break room, her eyes bugging. "Guess what?!" she said breathlessly.

Ada looked as disoriented as Sutton felt. "What?"

"Mikey P. has a girlfriend."

"Okay..."

"Um hello? Mikey P.? With a girlfriend?"

“Why is that such a big deal?” Ada said. “He’s a college boy. The chances are high that he has a girlfriend. Or a girl he’s ‘talking to’ or whatever.”

“Okay, so let me understand this: you two think it’s hilarious to make fun of Wyatt and me, but Mikey P. holds no interest for you?”

"Basically," Sutton said, at the same time that Ada said, "Mmhmm."

"Whatever," Debbie said with a roll of her eyes. "Apparently he's bringing this girl to Happy Hour on Friday. Wyatt overheard him talking to Javier and he kept saying 'she' and 'her' and all these things."

"The infamous female pronouns," Ada said, her eyes dancing. She crossed the break room and plucked a piece of grapefruit out of Sutton's bowl.

"What's with you two?" Debbie asked.

"Sorry," Sutton laughed. "We were just having a funny conversation when you walked in."

"You have funny conversations now?" Debbie said, her eyebrows raised.

"We had a Come-to-Jesus talk," Ada said, stealing another piece of grapefruit, "and our energies are aligned now."

"Okay, weirdos, I'll leave you alone with your energies," Debbie said, grabbing a water from the fridge, "but you'd better come to Happy Hour on Friday."

The next two days passed with similar giddiness. Sutton clicked eyes with Ada multiple times a day, made excuses to find her in the break room, tried to make her laugh during team meetings. By Friday, she was still on a high, still bowled over with how joyful she felt about their reconciliation.

Around 2 on Friday, Sutton's Outlook inbox chimed with a new e-mail. The sender's name said Ada Cosgrove. Sutton clicked on the message immediately, her stomach buzzing. Ada had never e-mailed her directly before - not since they were in high school and Sutton had sent her one of those "Fill out what I mean to you!!" surveys that had been floating around MySpace.

Ada's e-mail contained a link to a Buzzfeed article. In the body of the e-mail, Ada had written, It's like the writer spied on our company.

Sutton opened the article. It was titled "The 25 Co-Workers Who Will Drive You Batshit Crazy." Sutton skimmed it, recognizing far too many tropes.

I bet you wrote this under a pseudonym, Sutton e-mailed back. She glanced across the office and grinned at Ada, who had been glancing over at her.

Ha! No, Ada replied. If I had, one of them would have said 'The Ex-BFF you're really excited to be friends with again.'

Sutton warmed all over. She turned to look at Ada again, almost instinctively, and they shared an embarrassed smile.

Once again, Wyatt led the charge to Happy Hour. He pushed through the clusters of people near the bar until he spotted Trivareus, the waiter who usually helped him. Trivareus gave a less-than-enthusiastic smile as Wyatt indicated that he needed a table, even though there was an open table near the back corner. Sutton looked sideways to check if Ada had noticed it. She had. But this time, rather than calling Wyatt out on his insistence that his "connections" got them a table, Ada just rolled her eyes and smirked.

"Mikey," Debbie said sweetly once they had all sat down, "I thought you said you were bringing someone."

Mikey looked up in surprise. "Er--yeah," he muttered, clearly confused that Debbie knew this. "She's parking."

"Atta boy," Wyatt said, and Mikey looked in confusion at him.

"So," Debbie chirped, slapping her palms on the table, "how was everyone's week?"

"It was the same as every other week," Javier said flatly. He paused, considering. "Except I had to talk to that noob down in Florida."

"What noob?"

"From that company we're buying. Martha asked me to get a feel for their tech set-up. Let me tell you, this guy had no idea what he was doing. I wouldn't even trust him to watch my ferrets."

"Would you trust us to watch your ferrets?" Wyatt asked.

Javier blinked. Then he raised a finger and pointed at each of them, one by one.

"Yes," he pointed at Wyatt. "Yes," he said to Debbie, "but only if you talked less. Vocalization upsets them." He pointed to Mikey P. and paused for a beat. "Maybe," he decided, "but you'd have to get a background check first."

"What about me?" Ada asked.

"Yes," Javier pointed at her, "because you have a good head on your shoulders and I know you'd never mess up their feeding schedule."

Ada glanced at Sutton with bragging eyes.

"And me?" Sutton asked.

"Potentially," Javier said, his eyes squinting, "but you'd be a last resort, like Mikey, because you can be explosive sometimes."

"What?" Sutton said, genuinely taken aback. Next to her, Ada burst out laughing.

"I'd agree with that," Wyatt said.

"Sutton's not explosive!" Debbie said, with the air of defending an unloved puppy. "She's just passionate."

Ada laughed harder. Sutton elbowed her and laughed, "Shut up."

Just then, a pretty girl with a kind face approached their table and hovered at Mikey's side. "Hi," she said uncertainly.

"Oh, hey," Mikey said, his tone disinterested. "Hold on, we'll make room."

They all scooted down the booth, their eyes on Mikey P. and the new girl. There was a funny air of giddiness around the table. Sutton clicked eyes with Ada and saw her own smirk reflected on Ada's face.

"Wow, you're so cute!" Debbie trilled, extending a hand to the new girl's arm. "Mikey, she's so pretty!"

Mikey frowned, like Debbie was speaking nonsense. "Uh...okay."

"Thanks," the new girl blushed.

"What's your name?" Wyatt asked.

"I'm Brooke."

"Nice to meet you, Brooke. I'm Wyatt, this is Debbie, that's Javier, and that's Sutton and Ada."

Sutton's stomach buzzed. How long had it been since they had last been called Sutton-and-Ada, like a unit? The sound of it was magic.

"So how did you two meet?" Debbie asked Mikey and Brooke.

Both Mikey and Brooke stared at her. After a second, Brooke asked politely, "Um--excuse me?"

"Was it at Tech?" Debbie continued.

"Oh my god," Ada laughed, leaning in so only Sutton could hear her.

"What?" Sutton whispered.

"Look carefully between them. Notice anything?"

Sutton studied them against each other. The shape of their eyes, the jut of their chins--

"Ooooh," she breathed.

Across from her, Debbie was still clueless. "I just think you two look really cute together," she said.

"Debbie, ew," Mikey P. said, his expression horrified. "This is my sister."

There was a long, dead beat of silence around the table. Then Ada started laughing behind her hands. Javier started laughing on Sutton's other side. Brooke, at the end of the table, broke into a polite, disbelieving laugh.

"Yikes, Deb," Wyatt said.

"Oh, shut up," Debbie snipped, swatting at his arm. She didn't seem that embarrassed. "It was an easy mistake to make. You all thought it, too."

"I changed my mind about your ferret-sitting status," Javier said, guffawing. "It's a definite No now."

Ada was still laughing beside Sutton. Sutton finally broke into laughter with her, more amused by Ada's reaction than Debbie's misstep.

"Will you two cut it out?" Debbie said to them. "Stop acting like you're besties all of a sudden."

"Your faux pas got them all chummy," Wyatt said.

Sutton felt her face heat up, but Ada was unperturbed. "Sutton and I have similar senses of humor," she hiccupped.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad everyone's amused," Debbie said.

"I'm grossed out," Mikey P. said.

"Well who subjects their sister to company Happy Hour? The only time normal people bring others around is if it's their significant other!"

"I just wanted Brooke to get a feel for Cyntera," Mikey said, his face scrunched up.

"I was thinking about interning next year," Brooke added.

"Well, welcome to our company, Brooke," Ada said, her voice full of laughter, "where we champion incest above all else."

"Shut up," Debbie said again, with an air of resigning herself to everyone's mockery.

The server came over to ask for their drink orders. Javier ordered a whiskey-gin-Red Bull (the server frowned) while the rest of them scanned the drinks menu.

"What are you getting?" Sutton asked Ada.

Ada rubbed her lips back and forth, considering. "A Snakebite, maybe?"

"What's that?"

"Beer and cider mixed together. It's good. Are you gonna get high-gravity beers again?"

"Helllll no."

"You could order a Coke, like Mikey."

"Funny," Sutton said.

She ordered a Sweetwater Blue. The server motioned for their menus and Sutton took Ada's in hand with her own to give him. The simple thrill of that joint action made the whole night feel infinite.

When the server brought their drinks, Sutton asked Ada how her Snakebite was.

"Delicious," Ada said after a sip. She paused and, not looking at Sutton, she asked, "Do you want to taste it?"

Sutton was caught off guard by the intimate gesture, but she recovered. "Yeah," she said hastily, "I'd love to."

Ada held the drink out to her and Sutton took a sip from it, trying hard to act nonchalant.

"Good, right?" Ada asked.

Sutton agreed, but in truth she had hardly even noticed the taste: she was too ecstatic about sharing something with Ada for the first time in seven years.

They left after an hour and a half. Mikey saw his sister off to her car while the rest of them traipsed back to their company parking lot. Javier skipped off to his station wagon, shouting over his shoulder that his roommates were building a new video game theater and he didn't want to miss the fun. Wyatt and Debbie sneaked off together, dropping a hasty goodbye as they went. And suddenly Sutton and Ada were alone in the parking lot together.

"Hey, um," Sutton fumbled, "do you want to keep hanging out?"

"I do," Ada said, with a guilty voice, "but I actually promised my kickboxing friends I'd hang out with them tonight."

"Your what?"

"Kickboxing? Like the class?"

Sutton laughed in surprise. "You're in a kickboxing class?"

"I am. I started in January. It was one of my New Year's resolutions." She paused and smiled, as if she knew how different that made her sound from her teenage self.

"Wow."

"I guess this is another one of those new things we have to learn about each other?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Ada folded her arms over her silk blouse and glanced briefly off to the side, the way she had always done when she wasn't sure what to say.

"Well--maybe you can show me how to kick box sometime?" Sutton asked.

Ada offered her a small smile, the kind that meant she was acknowledging their awkwardness. "I'm gonna hold you to that."

"Okay," Sutton laughed.

"Okay, good," Ada laughed.

They stood with a cavern of things between them until Ada spoke again.

"Bye, Sutton."

"Bye."

They separated to their individual cars. Sutton turned the key in the ignition and fiddled with the radio buttons. When she looked back up, Ada was driving past her, offering a lingering wave.

"What kept you?" her mom asked when she got home. "You were out late last night, too. Have you made new work friends?"

Sutton deliberated. She didn't want to jinx anything by telling her mom about Ada.

"Yeah, the people at work are nice," she hedged.

"Have you had to deal with Ada at all?"

"Um." Sutton made a show out of pulling off her wedges. "Yeah, here and there. But it's been fine."

"Time heals all wounds."

Sutton nodded noncommittally. "Hope so," she said airily, and then she ducked into the pantry to grab Wilson Phillips' kibble.

She spent the evening putzing around her parents' house. She could have done something productive, like sort through the boxes of her old college things that she had never gotten around to donating to Goodwill. She could have attempted one of the new Pinterest recipes she had pinned from Amber's page. She could have taken her dad up on his offer to go see Guardians of the Galaxy, even though she knew he had only suggested it because he wanted to get away from her mom.

Instead, she slouched around the kitchen, her chipped pedicure catching her eye every other minute. She opened the refrigerator, stared into it, closed it again. She opened the door to the pantry, took stock of the cookies and crackers and soup, closed the door.

After a minute she opened the pantry again, plucked the peanut butter off the shelf, and leaned against the stove while she ate it by the spoonful.

She carried her phone in the pocket of her drawstring flannels and pulled it out every few minutes to make sure she hadn't missed anything, but there was no new activity, just an old picture of her law school friends serving as the background.

What was she hoping for, anyway? Ada wasn't going to text her. Not this soon into their new friendship.

Eventually she took the peanut butter jar up to her bedroom and opened her laptop to search for apartments. She clambered onto the bed and sat with her laptop scratching against the fabric of her leggings. Wilson Phillips lay purring at the foot of the bed, her paws tucked under her body so that she looked like a tubby little steamboat.

Sutton wasn't sure which part of the city she wanted to live in. There were so many neighborhoods to choose from, and many of them were close to her office. She scoured apartment rental websites and pointedly ignored the voice in her head reminding her that Ada lived in Midtown.

After 45 minutes of apartment searching, her phone buzzed with a text.

It was from Ada. Sutton's stomach popped.

Hey, how was your night?

For a long 30 seconds Sutton sat staring at the screen, her thumbs paralyzed. It was hard to believe Ada was texting her again. How many times had she lay in this childhood bed and texted with Ada late on a school night, her blocky Nokia phone buzzing on the mattress? How many phones had she gone through since she had last owned a phone that Ada wanted to text?

Hey, she typed back. It was good. How are your kickboxing friends?

Ad replied quickly. They're good. We shared some wine - except for one of them because she's pregnant. Ew.

Sutton smiled to herself. Hahaha. Not a fan of babies?

Ada didn't type back immediately. Then the screen alit with the ellipsis bubble, and a second later her message came through.

You know I've never liked babies. Remember when we babysat my cousin and I cried because he threw up on me??

Sutton digested the message. They had been referencing these shared memories for a few days now, but it still felt surreal to let them breathe again.

True, Sutton wrote back. But you were wearing that new sweater. That cry was well deserved.

Haha, maybe, Ada said. What did you do tonight?

I ate peanut butter straight from a jar, Sutton wrote.

#basic, Ada wrote back.

Totally basic, Sutton agreed, laughing.

The screen did not change for a minute, but then Ada wrote, Speaking of eating - do you want to get lunch tomorrow?

Sutton's stomach beat faster. Yeah, that'd be perfect. When and where?

So they went to lunch at 12:30 on Saturday. Ada suggested a place near Perimeter Mall that Sutton had never heard of, but when she pulled into the parking lot and saw the hole-in-the-wall joint with a pathetic wooden sign hanging in front of it, she loved it at once.

She found Ada inside, sitting in a booth with her curls hanging loose around her face.

"Hey," Sutton grinned.

"Hey," Ada beamed.

"So you're still an early bird."

"And so are you. It's only 12:22."

Sutton took a menu and shrugged with happiness. "Maybe some things about us aren't new."

When the server came to take their orders, Ada requested a soup and salad and Sutton asked for a BLT sub. Ada stuck her tongue out in teasing disgust when Sutton ordered it. "Don't know how you haven't converted to vegetarianism yet," she said.

"Don't know how you haven't converted back."

"I did for a few weeks my sophomore year of college, but it didn't last."

"Why not?"

Ada shrugged with her mouth. "Couldn't shake everything I had learned about the meat industry."

"I remember how crazy I thought you were when you decided to give up meat."

"You did think I was crazy," Ada laughed, "but you supported me anyway."

"Because you really believed in it."

Ada looked down and smiled in a far off way. “So—how are your parents?”

Sutton tapped her fingers on her sweet tea glass. “The same. My mom is still obsessed with tennis and cooking, my dad still watches every Giants game he can.”

“Are they, like—how are they together?”

Sutton felt naked. How funny that Ada could divest her like this, could get to the heart of Sutton’s life, when her college and law school friends, though they had been around for the last seven years, knew little about it.

“They—” Sutton sighed. “I think they’re resigned at this point. They really made an effort a few years ago—did the counseling thing and all that—but at this point it’s like they’re completely lethargic when it comes to their marriage.”

Ada’s eyes were expressive. "I always hoped they'd find their way back to each other."

"Me too."

"Are you okay, living at home with them?"

"I'm fine. Even though it's sad, it's comfortable at this point. You know?"

"Yeah."

When the server came back, they took a break from talking to eat their lunch. Sutton watched Ada spoon fast swirls around her soup, the broccoli and cheese starting to separate.

"You always used to do that," Sutton said, before she could help it.

"Mm?"

"With your soup. The swirls you're making."

Ada smiled shyly. "Oh. Yeah." She was quiet for a moment, dragging her spoon around the bowl. "My college friends used to make fun of me for this all the time."

"Yeah?"

"They were all convinced I had A.D.D."

The way she said it, Sutton couldn't tell how she felt about it.

"I do weird things with my food, too," Sutton offered.

Ada smiled. "I know."

"I'd like to hear more about them."

"My college friends?"

"Yeah. What are they like?"

Ada considered. "Crazy. Funny. Like everyone's college friends, I guess. One of them got married this spring. I was in the wedding."

"You were a bridesmaid?"

"Yeah."

"I think I saw pictures of that on Facebook."

Ada's mouth twitched. "Stalker."

"It was on my news feed."

"You didn't hide me from your news feed?"

"No," Sutton laughed. Then a small terror seized her. "Wait--did you hide me?"

Ada rested her chin in her hand and smiled sadly. "No. But about halfway through freshman year, I forced myself to stop looking at your Facebook."

Sutton lowered her eyes. "I used to check yours from time to time. Even though I denied it that first day of work."

Ada tore a piece of bread to dip into her soup. "Sutton?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to come see my apartment after this?"

Sutton startled, her heart speeding up inside her. "Yeah," she said, speaking as casually as she could. "Yeah, okay."

The server brought the check. Sutton insisted on paying, reminding Ada that it was her turn. And then they were in the parking lot and Ada was telling Sutton to follow her, and suddenly they were on their way.