Ana left early that morning, the smell
of her perfume lingered in my sheets.

That same shyness seemed to wash over us again as we got dressed. I watched as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun and smoothed out the front of her dress.

She slipped out the front door just as the sun peeked over the clouds, but not before giving me a quick kiss goodbye.

I shut the door behind me and whirled around to...

I didn’t mean for it to happen.
But when I woke up the next morning
Ana was curled up in my arms, wearing
Nothing but one of my shirts - a Beatles one that she’d probably gotten from one of my dresser drawers.

After leaving the ballet studio, we walked in silence. Ana just kept her head down and wouldn’t stop rubbing that one spot on her neck.

I knew she couldn’t go home like that, so I invited her...