Page 71 of It Started at the Lake

Mils pulls her phone out of her back pocket, handing it to me. “Go right ahead. Evie is well aware her tardiness gets on my nerves.”

I laugh. “Got it. I can’t stand long toenails on me or anyone else.”

“I bite my nails when I’m stressed.” She holds her hand up. “I painted mine red to hide how short they are right now. Finals kicked my trash this semester.”

“Is it weird to admit I like women with red painted nails?”

“Is it a fetish of yours?”

I shoot her a grossed-out look. “Ew, no. Growing up, my neighbor's mom always had her nails painted red. I’m not sure if she really liked the color or what, but when I was little, it made her seem put together somehow. I don’t know, it’s silly, but I like it.”

She laughs. “That’s way less creepy than I was imagining.”

“Not being creepy is a life goal of mine.”

She pats my shoulder. “Pretty sure you’re nailing it.”

“I sing in the shower.” Seriously, man? Some secrets aren’t meant to be shared.

Millie smiles at me. “What are we talking about here? Opera? Rock?”

“Whatever’s playing on my phone.”

“Are you any good?” She shakes her head. “Nope, never mind. I don’t care if you sing totally off-key. I must witness this.”

“Uhhhh… Not going to happen. Sorry.” How did she imagine that scenario playing out? Her showering with me? An image of Millie standing in my bathroom, watching me through the clear glass door, swims in my mind. “Is it suddenly hot in here?” I crank the air conditioning up.

“I think it’s just you,” she teases.

“I bring my own pillowcase and sheets when I travel. Lysol wipes too for the light switches, doorknobs, and remote.” Germs, yes. That’s an excellent subject that doesn’t bring to mind Millie naked.

“Is it because of that documentary they did, testing different surfaces in a hotel room?”

I shudder. “Yes. Have you seen it too?”

She dry heaves. “For the record, I’ve never stayed in a hotel, but yeah. The body hair, the bodily fluids, the dander. Blech. All of it grosses me out.”

“Nice to know when we travel, we need to save space in our suitcases for sheets.”

Millie doesn’t say anything.

Glancing at her, I see she’s grinning with a softness in her eyes like she’s the luckiest woman in the world.

“What’s that gorgeous smile for?”

“That entire sentence.”

“Traveling and sheets?” I don’t understand. Why does that make her so happy?

She sniffles. “Yeah.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you crying? What’s wrong?” How did we get from smiling to crying so quickly?

Taking another quick glance at her, I see a tear slide down her cheek. “They’re happy tears. I can’t believe you and Evie have offered to travel with me someday. You’re dream makers.”

That’s being extremely generous. “I’m really not.”

“Whatever,” she says, like I’m being stubborn. “Do you have any napkins in here?” She opens my glove compartment, rifling through it.

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