A few feet away, Len is part of another conversation, but when our eyes meet, he smiles. And that’s when I understand: the reason is Len. I’m just the girl with Len. I could be Natalie, or Olivia, and it wouldn’t really make a difference. It doesn’t matter what kind of ruckus I’ve caused outside this situation, or what kind of stuff I’ve said about Len. The important thing is that I’m here with him, and he seems fine with it, so the respect they have for him carries over to me. It’s disquieting. It makes me feel complicit in something I don’t understand.
