BJ pressed her head into the steering wheel as Hai sat mute beside her, the heat from her body steaming up the windows. The bar’s neon signs purpled the van’s interior. “Tell my parents to go home, man. Tell them not to wait for me,” said BJ to the floor. “I’ll do it.” Maureen, eager to get away from her role in the disaster, dashed out of the van. “And tell them I’m sorry,” BJ called, but she was already gone, gingerly dodging ice puddles across the lot. It wasn’t until her mouth said sorry that BJ lost it, her shoulders jerking as she cried.
