Slow Dance

by Rainbow Rowell

“In some ways.” She tipped her head, considering. “I suppose I feel more invested in the world now . . .” Cary was holding his mug to his mouth, but he wasn’t drinking. “You weren’t invested before?” Shiloh shrugged again. “Eh. I felt like a short-timer before. You know, like I was doing my time, clocking in and out . . .” “Clocking in and out of humanity.” “Exactly,” she said. “But then I had kids, and now I worry a lot more about everything.”

Her skin was darker than Cary’s. Redder. But still like milk. Like pearls. Luminous. She had big brown eyes and eyebrows you could see from the cheap seats. A wide, wild smile. Her eyeteeth were too prominent, and her bottom teeth were a wreck—you couldn’t always see them, but when you could, it made Cary weak.