#*starters.

𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀 𝐈𝐒 𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐒𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, and hadn’t interrupted once. She’d only nodded and encouraged him to keep going when he paused, and she was listening but at some point her subtle clenching and unclenching of her fist was no longer subtle. Isla eventually goes rifling through her bag and takes out a clear cigarette box with pink hand rolled cigs in it. “Do you mind if I smoke? I’ll share it with you if you want.” She has not, in fact, specified what kind of smoking she means.

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆, Isla fans her face with her hand. “— so in his enthusiasm I slipped and landed ass first on his bath faucet.” She pulls a face. “But that wasn’t the worst part. He started crying and screaming ‘where is it where is it!’ ‘cause he thought the faucet broke off in my...” another pointed expression. “So I, bleeding profusely, had to calm him down, stuff three pads between my cheeks, borrow a pair of his sweats and a tshirt because my clothes got soaked from his thrashing about in the bathroom, and drive myself to the ER. And when I got there, they thought he was the one who needed help.”

Despite her quick reflexes and the attention she paid to the sidewalk in her periphery, another woman steps out into the sidewalk and Isla cannot navigate out of the way. They collide and a coffee cup goes flying. Isla gives an alarmed squeak and holds her book out of the way, jumping back at the coffee slams into the sidewalk and splashes in a big beige puddle. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” Isla exclaims, looking up at the woman with an expression of embarrassment and apology on her face. “Let me get you another...” that expression on her face melts away into total surprise when she lays on the woman she’s just run into.