The burrito tasted like rubber, but Poppy didn’t care. She chewed through the cafeteria lunch special mindlessly. It had been two days since that moment with Ryan, and she hadn’t stopped thinking about it. She'd tried, but she just couldn’t imagine it was anything less than what it was—sheer magic, heat and passion.

She’d never felt anything like it. Not with Will, not with anybody. And the best part? She hadn’t seen it coming, and it had been pure fireworks.

Poppy had replayed it a hundred times, and each time it still made her wet. She imagined how it had felt being cradled on Ryan’s lap, the roughness of his jeans against her skin. The thong she wore under her dress covered almost nothing, and even as she’d been crying she was aware of the heat that radiated from him spreading across her thighs and ass.

When he’d moved in and kissed her, it was like that was what she’d been waiting for her entire life. The slight roughness of his stubble brushed her chin and cheeks, and it was a shocking contrast to the suppleness of his lips. When he’d caught her lower lip between his teeth and nibbled slightly, she'd heard a longing moan. It had taken her a moment to realize it came from her. It was like Will didn’t even exist and Ryan was her whole world.

His tongue tangled with hers was unlike anything she’d experienced. It felt right, natural, and she’d felt her nipples harden. She couldn’t help it. She pushed her breasts against his chest, and that alone had made her flood between her legs.

When she pushed off him, she knew she’d cut the magic short. But she was embarrassed, too humiliated to look down and see if she’d left any of her wetness on his jeans. Instead, she’d acted like a child. Had refused to say a single word to him after her stammered excuses.

She shook her head and let the burrito drop. You’re an idiot.

She’d wanted to do more than kiss. A lot more. She’d been ready, right then, to give her virginity to Ryan. Actually, it felt like she had been earmarked for him forever.

You stopped right in time, she told herself. Don’t be stupid. You stopped in time… just not early enough to prevent the kiss altogether.

Well. There was no putting that screeching cat back into the bag now, was there? Poppy groaned and rested her head on her arms, folded across the cafeteria table. Was that just a one-time thing? Or…

“What’s wrong with you?” Penny flopped down across from Poppy with her own tray of suspicious-looking “Mexican Monday” fare.

“Nothing,” Poppy said as she lifted her head to fake normalcy. “Just tired.”

“I hear that,” Penny said. “I think I got three hours of sleep last night, max.”

“Yeah.”

“You get any rest?” Penny asked as she took a bite of taco salad and made a face. “Gross, this isn’t sour cream.”

“I guess.”

Penny put down her fork. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Everything okay?”

Poppy sighed. “I guess I’m having some trouble with Will… or, to put it better, trouble with the lack of him.”

Penny smiled knowingly and reached over to pat her shoulder. “It must be hard. Him being gone like this.”

How does she know he’s gone? Poppy was suddenly on high alert. “I didn’t tell you he was gone.”

“No?” Penny asked and stuffed another forkful in her mouth. “Hmm. You must have mentioned it at some point.”

“I don’t remember saying anything.”

Poppy shrugged, “Maybe I saw it on Facebook or Twitter then or something.”

“Maybe.” Poppy rarely posted to social media. She found it too taxing to keep up with. Liking all those posts, retweeting or subtweeting or whatever.

“Anyway, I was just saying, having your boyfriend on the other side of the country can’t be any fun,” Penny said. “Maybe we should plan a girls' night or something.”

The thought of dressing up and hitting the bars with Penny made her roll her eyes. “Ugh, I can’t even think about anything but work and sleep right now.” And Ryan.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Going out always sounds like a good idea at noon, but by the time six o’clock rolls around I just want to climb into bed with a bottle of wine and watch The Bachelorette.”

Poppy smiled. It had been a long time since she’d indulged in one of her vapid, guilty pleasures. “Now that sounds more like it.”

“Let me know if you want to do it together sometime this week,” Penny said. “I have a date coming up. Maybe you could give me some advice, help me pick out what to wear.”

“A date? Who with?” Penny rarely shared details of her love life, and it was a welcome distraction from being stressed over Ryan.

“Oh, uh, just this guy.”

“Well, I assumed that.”

“Hey now, don’t think you know me so well,” Penny said. She shook her fork toward Poppy playfully. “For all you know, I might swing both ways.”

“Right. You totally strike me as the president of the Ruby Rose fan club.” Poppy rolled her eyes. Penny was the straightest girl she’d ever known.

“Hey now! I happen to think women are totally beautiful. I’m more openminded than you think. Shane, from The L Word? I’d totally go lesbian for her.”

Poppy groaned. “Shush!” she said. “First of all, just because women are beautiful doesn’t mean you want to sleep with them. Second of all, anybody would hook up with Shane. And third, I can’t believe you just said ‘go lesbian.’ You’re about to get your butt kicked for that total lack of PCness.”

Penny giggled. “It’s just the two of us, right? I can’t censor myself all the time. Besides, I can just blame lack of sleep for my complete lack of sensitivity.”

“Yeah,” Poppy said. “Speaking of, we just had the sensitivity training seminar last week. Looks like it did you a lot of good.” She winked at Penny. It was this kind of giddy mindlessness that made her want to be friends with the crazy girl in the first place. When they got into their rhythm, it made the shifts fly by.

“So, back to the important stuff… I’m serious. Were you talking about Ryan?” Penny’s eyes were big as she shoved carnitas in her mouth.

“No! Penny, honestly… it’s just that Will's still in LA.” She forced a laugh and said, “He’s been gone so long other men are starting to distract me!”

Poppy said it like it was a joke, but Penny’s eyes narrowed. “You mean Ryan.”

“Please,” Poppy said as she rolled her eyes. Don’t be stupid, you’re saying way too much. Penny was smarter than she acted.

“Poppy,” Penny said. She reached across the table again and grabbed Poppy’s arm. “Are you holding out on me?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it! I was joking, forget I said anything.” She knew it would look suspicious, but she jumped up from the table and grabbed her tray. “I should be getting back,” she said. Shut up! Penny knows your schedule.

She dumped the flavorless burrito in the compost bin and fished her keys out of her jacket. Forget changing, she’d do it at home.

Penny was acting weird, for sure, she thought as she pulled out of the parking lot. Did Penny just disapprove, or was it more than that?

They weren’t really close, but there was a natural camaraderie that unfolded when you shared shift rounds with someone. Normally, Poppy would have been happy to have someone to dismantle this mess with. Now, it felt like all her usual confidantes were tangled up in the same web with her. Ryan, Will, Penny, the whole lot. Even Sarah. Oh, wow, I forgot about Sarah in all this. Sarah would kill her.

You’re in a mess. A real big, sloppy mess. As she pulled up to where the road forked in three directions, she gave a wry smile. Fitting. I’m literally at a fork in the road.

It was time to decide. For her, down one path was the future she'd always thought she’d have. Will would be a decent husband, and there would surely be kids and that white picket fence—or at least a brick privacy fence. It was safe, secure, and she knew what to expect. Maybe their kids would even inherit some of his creativity. Lord knows she didn’t have any.

And down that other path? She didn’t know. It was full of the promise of excitement, seasoned with plenty of uncertainty. Until now, she hadn't even known that path existed. It was wild and not well traveled. What did they call those kinds of trails again? Desire paths. That’s right. The trails blazed from pure desire—even while there are other trails that are obviously marked and cleared.

Will was at the end of one path, and Ryan the other. Well, maybe. Down Will’s path, it was all concrete but the plans were clear. Ryan’s path was full of potential turmoil. She might lose her best friend. Ryan’s path might not even be an option; it might all be a figment of her imagination.

The car behind her honked, and she noticed the light was green.

As she lifted her foot off the brake, she didn’t know if she'd be turning right or left. She always turned right here, since it took her home. However, as Robert Frost’s poem began to recite in her head, dug up from her undergraduate Literary Criticism class, she chose left.

Let’s just see where it goes.