He wants answers that I can’t give him. I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing, let alone how to explain it. One minute I want to hide inside my apartment with the door locked to everyone, the next I’m staring Coty down like he’s my next great adventure. It’s fucked. I’m fucked. The only thing I do know is I can’t stay here with his towel looking more and more like my own personal invitation to explore.
