Page 94 of Edge of Unbroken

“She seemed really nice when I talked to her on the phone. I could tell she was confused when I picked up her call,” Miranda says with a giggle. “Especially when I told her you were with me that night, but not that morning.”

“Uh-huh,” I grunt, but don’t tell Miranda that Vada was in the car with Cat, and she proceeded to inform Cat that Miranda had a reputation for being “easy.”

“When did you know you loved her?” Miranda asks.

“I can’t really put a finger on it,” I say. “It was more like a gradual realization that I didn’t want to be without her.”

“So, it wasn’t love at first sight?” she asks, digging deeper.

“Can you actuallylovesomeone at first sight? I don’t know, but I can tell you that the moment I saw her for the first time it felt different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. It was like the world zoomed in on her, like I found a piece of me I had been missing for a long time without ever even knowing it. It was almost like, ‘Oh, there you are!’ I justhadto get to know her, but it also felt like I had known her all my life. It was just familiar and easy and comfortable with her, and it became clear to me pretty quickly that I wouldn’t be alright unless I was with her.”

“Aw, Rony, that is so cute,” Miranda says in a swoony voice.

“Fuck off.”

She laughs and grazes her fingers over my chest and down my right arm. “You know who I ran into while I was in town today?”

“Who?”

“Tawney,” she says about a girl whom Miranda would get into literal fistfights with when I lived in Montana last time.

“Really?”

“Yep. She asked me whether it was true that you were back,” Miranda says. “She got all flustered when I told her you were and that I was staying with you,” she says with a wicked laugh. “I swear, she still has the fucking hots for you.”

“Stop.”

“No, really. I told you all along that she wanted to get in your pants. Why do you think she and I got into it that one time out by the creek?”

“Uh, because you were both high as kites and accusing each other of taking each other’s weed.”

“No, that was not the reason,” she says. “I mean, shedidtake my weed, but that was beside the point. She told me that if I didn’t watch out, she’d snatch you right up and she’d, and I quote, ‘show you what a really good fuck feels like.’ So I punched her.”

“God, you both looked like shit afterwards; I remember you had two black eyes,” I say with a frown.

“She looked worse.”

I nod with a chuckle. “Yeah, she did.”

“Well, when I ran into her today she looked to be about eight or nine months pregnant,andshe was pushing a toddler in a stroller.”

“Are you serious?”

“Uh-huh. I had to ask her who her baby daddy was.” Miranda giggles.

“Anyone we know?”

“Guess!”

I give up immediately. “No idea.”

“Cory,” she says as if she just revealed the biggest mystery to me.

“Holy shit!” I remember Cory; he’s about ten years older than me and may or may not have been the person Miranda regularly acquired weed and pills from.

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