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Part of it was that Jenny was just so easy-going once you got to know her. Stacey wasn’t really a bitch, but she had higher expectations. It was hard to listen to complaints about how we didn’t have a car, and how the apartment was too small, and so on. The car, anyway, felt like a senseless waste of money for a city girl, but Stacey thought we deserved one. I felt bad about disappointing her, but it had only motivated me to work harder. I was hoping news of my latest successes would help cheer her up. ‘I’m home!’ I called, guiding my roller bag through the doorway. I took a deep breath, savoring the scent of Stacey’s candles. They littered our apartment since she’d moved in, but it smelled like she’d lit more of them than usual. It was a little like a cigar lounge, except it didn’t make me want to cough. I inhaled deeply again, and then let my accumulated tension flow away as I exhaled. ‘Linnea! We were just talking about you!’ Stacey called from the couch. The sound of her voice. I checked out the pattern of the cross traffic at the bottom of the ramp, and noticed where the gap was, timing my approach to the signal to match. Luckly for me, my blind spot under the overpass was clear as well, and since the van behind me was speeding up, if anything, I blasted on through the gap I had chosen, against the red light, and the Blue Van followed me, but I hadn't included a gap for them. A noise of impact, crumpling metal, honking horns, clattering of small pieces and a rolling hubcap, as I got back on the freeway up the on-ramp on the other side of the intersection. I passed the next two off ramps, and took the third. Pulling into the shade of an industrial building, next to a cyclone fence, I dismounted, removed my helmet, and looked at Eliza."That was very strange," she answered my unspoken question. "They thought you were someone else, who had wronged them, but the image in their mind even as they were looking at you didn't match our actual appearance. It was like.
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