Some Girls Do

by Jennifer Dugan

“Oh, woe is Morgan. All the girls want to kiss you, even the ones we thought were straight. You’ll probably find Anika on your porch next, banging on your door.”

“I didn’t piss you off with my truth bombs, did I? I know sometimes they don’t land.”

“This is my area,” I say. She stops at the bulletin board I’ve filled up with pictures of models posing with cars. All of them are women. She looks at me, a smirk on her face. “Nice pics.” “I just really like the cars?” I say with a fake wince. “Mm-hmm, yeah, all of these women have really, really nice . . . cars,” she says, then bursts out laughing so hard she snorts, and, oh my god, I love her. I mean, not really, but still.

“Fine, I left it as a reminder of its rough times or whatever. You can buff them out and paint over them, but they’re still there. Still a part of you, and that has to be okay, right? You have to live with it, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m going to grab it.” “Good plan.” “Totally going to grab it,” I say again, still not moving. “Smart move.” “I’m doing it.” I stand up. “For real.” “Go get ’em, tiger,” Dylan says, and I raise my eyebrows. “Too far?” “Too far.” “How about ‘Godspeed’? Does ‘Godspeed’ work?” “That works,” I say. “Godspeed, then.”