pines to shift. I pull the window closed and lock it. And then check the lock. “Hey,” Sasha says and moves close to me. I feel her hand against my back. “You’ll be fine.” Her hand is warm on my back. Goose bumps creep up my neck. She hugs me, and I feel her chest against mine. Every place she touches tingles. After a minute, she pulls away and slides two cigarettes between her lips and lights them. After the ends burn and glow red, she hands me one. I watch her take another drag and then she applies more lipstick in the mirror. I mimic her movement. For a moment, I don’t see my reflection anymore. I am a beautiful Arapaho woman with flowing dark hair and skin like rich soil. “Relax,” she says, pursing her lips. “Your makeup is running.” She licks her thumb and wipes my cheek with her wet finger. She kisses me; her lip ring is cool against my skin. I can almost hear the ocean waves rolling in and out, and I can smell the sea-salt air. Just then, the bathroom door swings open. I pull away from Sasha. The “Pugs and Kisses” waitress stands in the doorway, her apron stained with ketchup. I tuck my unkempt hair behind my ears. “Can we help you?” Sasha asks. She takes a long drag of her cigarette. The waitress’s eyes narrow. She shakes her head, but says nothing and backs out the way she came. “We should go,” I say. My face is hot. Sasha throws her cigarette out the window. We pass the front counter, I notice the waitress talking to the cook in a hushed voice, watching us as we head back to the booth. The food is at the table and my father is almost done with his burger. I slide in close to Sasha. “Where you been?” he asks. “Food’s getting cold.” Before I can reply, the waitress approaches our booth. “Hey,” my father tells her, controllitmag
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