I woke up one morning with one of David’s songs stuck in my head. It was a song called “Five Dollars,” and it made no sense even when he’d tried to explain it to me. After he left my apartment for rehearsal, I made myself coffee and played the song, listening carefully to the message he insisted was there. It was catchy and I couldn’t shake it even when I put on a Cat Stevens record and tried to listen to something else. And if his song was in my head it meant that he was in my head.

I got dressed in my sweats, deciding to take a walk down to Pike for breakfast. The fresh air, and crepes, and the hustle of the Market would cleanse my mind of David Lisey. My favorite crepe place was buried under the Market. The locals knew where it was, but the tourists had to stumble across it, and then it was hard to find the next time they tried to go back. My hair was pulled up in a greasy ponytail and the only thing I was wearing on my face was a little Chapstick. Pike Place Market was my favorite thing about Seattle. Its off-kilter shops and weird shop owners reminded me of Camden Town back home. Not in an obvious way—if you held the two together they’d look and smell nothing alike. There was a subversive quality to it, an overthrow of pretentiousness. I passed Rachel the golden pig everyone loved to pose with and turned left. Someone was straddling her back, lifting their arms in the air for a photo. I turned my head at the last minute and pulled a tongue to photobomb them. I was having deep thoughts about tourists when I rounded the corner and spotted David. He was standing right in front of me, the donut shop behind him. At first, I smiled because just a few hours ago he was inside of me. But, then I saw that he wasn’t alone and my emotions deflated like a balloon. There was no ducking away, no hiding.

“Oh hi,” I said, flustered.

I tried not to look at the girl he was with but there was the fact that I knew her. Nya was clinging to his arm holding a plastic bag in her free hand. They could have just run into each other, I thought. Wait to react.

“What are you guys doing here?”

The drummer and the bass player from his band were also with them. They all came to an abrupt stop when they saw me.

“We just had breakfast,” Nya informed me. “And now we’re going for a walk.”

“Oh,” I said. I couldn’t look at him. I looked over his shoulder at the colorful pepper displays hanging from a market stall.

“You remember Ferdinand and Brick,” he said, motioning to the two guys flanking them. “They’re in the band.”

Everything about Ferdinand was large. I had to tilt my neck back to look into his face. He nodded at me, amused. Brick, the most solidly built of the three, had sleepy eyes and dreadlocks wound into a hive on his head. He looked bored despite the building drama.

“Where are you off to?” David said it so softly I almost didn’t hear him.

“Breakfast,” I said. “Crepe De France.”

“That’s where we came from,” Nya said, matter-of-factly. Was it just me or was her voice aggressive?

You’re not allowed to feel anything about this, I told myself. And it was true. No emotional contracts had been drafted. I’d rejected his request for a relationship at least a dozen times. We weren’t officially anything, but we liked each other and we liked to fuck. Still, you’d think he’d wait a couple hours before going on his next date. I wondered how long he’d been seeing Nya. And then I felt it, oh yuck…jealousy.

Suddenly I didn’t feel like eating.

“So how many girls do you fuck in a day?” I asked. It was casual. I could have been asking about the weather. What’s the point in making yourself look like you’re not hurt, you know? We spend so much time pretending nothing can touch us that men have actually started to believe it. Both Ferdinand and Brick looked suddenly alert, eyes wide, while David looked steadily at me. I had to give it to him—nothing fazed this fucking wanker. I didn’t look at Nya, not even once. She was a terrible server and I was going to fuck up all of her drink orders from now on.

“We aren’t sleeping together, Yara,” he said gently, fighting back a smile. “But, I can see how it looks that way. We ran into each other and Nya suggested we grab something to eat.”

“Oh she did, did she?”

Nya dropped his arm. I wanted to find something to still be mad at, but I was sort of embarrassed.

“Well,” I said. “If you intend to fuck someone else you should let me know. Sexual courtesy and all.”

His mouth twitched, but he kept a straight face.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Though I don’t plan on…er…fucking anyone else in the foreseeable future. I like fucking you. You have a really fantastic pussy.”

Brick clapped once and then crossed his arms over his chest. My move. I scratched my head.

“Yes, but you know how women are. Always offering and when something is right there, men usually take it.”

“Usually?” David placed a hand over his heart. “I am a member of one church. I’ve not been church shopping. I don’t know what type of men you’re used to…”

Ferdinand, the bassist, reached out a hand and squeezed David’s shoulder while looking at me, his lips pressed together trying to suppress his own laughter.

I cleared my throat, my face burning. Nya had taken a step away from David and was looking around for an escape, her plan to steal my guy thwarted.

“I also…quite as well…enjoy it,” I managed to choke out. “The music is decent and—”

“Decent?” Ferdinand said. I ignored him. He wasn’t part of this congregation.

“Well, good then.” David nodded. “So we’re going steady and our relationship seems to be solely based on sex.” He sounded quite cheerful about it.

“No,” I rushed. “I didn’t say that.”

“Which part?” he asked. He looked at Ferdinand. “I’m confused, Ferdinand. Are you confused?”

“Yeah, man. You two are perfect for each other. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Church and shit.”

“I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore either,” I said to David. And then I added, “I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Oh, English. You’ve found trouble,” he said. “I’m glad you’re my girlfriend.”

English.

“Fine. All right. But you have to take me out to dinner tonight to celebrate. Somewhere fancy and expensive.”

“Fine,” he mimicked. “But, as my girlfriend, you have to give me a blow job in the car before we go into the restaurant.”

“I don’t swallow,” I said.

“No one’s perfect.”

I pushed past them, my face stony and determined. What the ever-loving fuck just happened? Also, suddenly I was hungry again.