“You’re too young to just work and sit at home with your grandparents all the time. Come on, go to this party with me. It’ll be fun.”

Zoe and Donna, another new girl Doris hired about two weeks after Zoe got the job at the Pancake House, were out back on their break. Donna was puffing on a cigarette and Zoe was eating a biscuit and egg sandwich that her nana had packed in her purse that morning. She was constantly telling her that she could eat at the restaurant, but Nana was determined to put some meat on her granddaughter’s bones as quickly as she could.

“Nah, I’m okay, Donna. I’m not big on crowds and parties anymore.”

“Staying clean doesn’t mean you have to cut yourself off from the world. I mean, isn’t the real test getting back out there? I promise you, my friend who is throwing the party doesn’t do drugs at all…not even weed. There will be a lot of alcohol, but that wasn’t your problem, right?”

“No, I’ve never really drank,” Zoe said. That wasn’t the whole truth, but she was too ashamed to admit that she had stolen more than one bottle of alcohol in her life for those long nights when she wasn’t able to get her hands on a fix. “I know it sounds weird at my age, but my grandfather is really strict. If I’m not home by ten, he’ll lock me out.” She was embarrassed to admit that, but she and Donna had become fast friends and Donna knew about her situation.

“You can stay at my place tonight. We’re both off tomorrow. Come on, Zoe, I count you as one of my best friends and we never spend time together outside of work. It’ll be good for us both. It’s been a long-ass week.”

Donna had a point there. Zoe’s first day at the Pancake House, business had been so slow that she didn’t understand why Doris was complaining about not having enough help. But she quickly realized that because of the neighborhood they worked in, business fluctuated with the arrival and the depletion of the welfare payments, social security disbursements, and veteran’s pensions. On those days and for several days afterwards, it never let up. It was the third of the month and so far, all week it had been non-stop. Zoe left each day to ride her bike home with swollen ankles and knees that felt like they were fifty years old. She readily agreed that she needed to do something besides work, and even though her grandfather was softening at home just a bit, watching TV with him and Nana every night was getting old too. But the idea of going to a party with a bunch of people her own age that had lived “normal” lives seemed like too much of a big step all at once.

“Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow…”

Donna rolled her eyes and stubbed out her cigarette. “We’re not middle-aged women,” she said. “We don’t ‘do lunch.’ We ‘do parties.’ I’ll stay with you all night and introduce you to everyone. Come on, Zoe…it’ll be fun.”

Famous last words, Zoe thought six hours later as she stood at the island between the kitchen and living room of an older Spanish-style house in a middle-class neighborhood in Memphis. Donna had introduced her to everyone and Zoe had promptly forgotten all their names, even before Donna disappeared with some hot black guy that looked like a professional football player. It was already ten p.m.; Donna had driven them there and Zoe couldn’t even catch a cab home unless she planned on sleeping in the back yard. She’d been sipping on a Coke all night, but the colorful bottles of alcohol and the blender full of margarita mix on the island in front of her were all beginning to look appealing.

“Hello there, gorgeous.” She looked up into a pair of light brown eyes. They were in a nice-looking face with a dusting of stubble across the chin. And the face belonged to a relatively clean-cut, dark-haired guy with a slim build and lots of colorful tattoos on his arms. Zoe smiled nervously and said:

“Hey.”

“I’m Matt.” He held out a big hand. Zoe shook it quickly and let it go.

“Zoe.”

“Nice,” he said, looking her over and licking his bottom lip. Zoe wasn’t sure what he was looking at; she was still as thin as a rail. His piercing gaze was making her nervous, but when she gave him another small smile and tried to move away, he followed her. “What are you drinking?” Zoe held up the soda can in her hand and said,

“Coke.”

He laughed. “I mean, what’s in it?”

“Syrup, sugar, food coloring…”

He laughed hard at that. “You’re funny. Hot and funny. I like it,” he said, licking his lips again.

“Yeah, I’m a laugh a minute. I have to go pee now, though. It was nice meeting you.” She started to slip into the hallway where the bathroom was but Matt stepped around in front of her. Surprising her by taking the Coke out of her hand, he said:

“I’ll hold this and wait for you.”

“It’s okay,” Zoe said. “I’ll just put it on the counter.” She tried to take it back, but he pulled it away.

“It’s germy in there. Go on.” She frowned at the way he snapped the order at her. Who does this guy think he is? When she was on the streets and getting high, she would have started a fight over it. But being sober decreased her need for the adrenaline rush that getting the shit knocked out of her used to produce. She rolled her eyes at him but turned and went into the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and looked around. There was one small window, but it wasn’t big enough for even her thin frame to fit out of. She was just going to have to find her backbone and tell the creep she wasn’t interested. She reached over and flushed the toilet in case he was listening, washed her hands, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was beginning to like what she saw looking back, a lot more than she used to…but she was sure the guy in the hallway was either drunk, desperate, or both, since she knew she didn’t look half as good as some of the other girls at the party. Besides, Zoe liked her men domineering in the bedroom, but not overly forward when she first met them. That was a huge turn-off to her. She straightened her back before opening the door, resolved to get away from the creep and call a cab, even if she had to spend the night out in the yard.

“How’d it go, baby?” Matt said as soon as she opened the door. She wrinkled her forehead at him and said:

“The name is Zoe. I don’t know you well enough for you to call me baby.”

“Maybe you should get to know me better,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and tried to slip around him in the narrow hallway. He blocked her way. “Excuse me,” she said, harshly.

He laughed again and said, “Calm down. I just wanted to give your Coke back before you took off.” He held out the can and she took it. She wasn’t about to drink it, knowing that he’d had plenty of time to put something in it if he’d wanted to.

“Thanks. Now, if you’ll move out of my way…”

“What’s your hurry, beautiful? I think you and I might have a lot in common. Why don’t we find a quiet place to talk?”

“I don’t think so. I need to go.”

“It’s early, baby. Come on, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Move.”

Instead of moving, he stepped closer so his chest was in her face. He put an arm around her and rested his hand on her back. “Just one kiss, baby, and I’ll move.”

“Fuck you,” Zoe said, trying to take a step back. He tightened his grip on her, so she did the only thing she could think of…she threw the Coke directly in his face and stomped down on his foot. While he was cussing her, and wiping his eyes, she ducked around him and ran for the front door. She had to push her way past several drunk people to get to the door. Once she was there, she threw it open and ran outside. She’d made it across the lawn and almost to the sidewalk when she felt a big hand on her shoulder.

“You little bitch. You’re going to apologize for that!” She was spun around to face the guy that only moments ago had been “kind of nice-looking,” but now looked like he was possessed.

“I wouldn’t have done it if you would have backed off like I asked you to,” she said. “Now let go of me or I’ll make you sorry again.”

The guy tightened his grip on her waist and grabbed her wrist tightly with his other hand. Zoe was just about to bring up her knee and kick him in the balls when she felt the ground vibrate under her feet and heard the rumble of a motorcycle approaching the STOP sign they stood a few feet away from. She couldn’t see the bike, but she saw the headlight shining directly in Matt’s face as he squinted. “Fucking cunt!” he yelled at the biker, loudly. “Get your fucking bright light out of my face.” Zoe heard the engine stop and felt Matt’s muscles freeze up. He was drunk and pissed and probably hadn’t meant to say that as loud as he had. If she wasn’t in pain from the hold he still had on her, she might have laughed.

“What did you say to me?” The voice was deep and masculine and the tone threatening, but strangely, Zoe found it sexy. A rush of liquid heat surged through her veins.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Matt said. He sounded brave and pissed, but Zoe felt the slight shake of the hand still holding onto her waist.

“Surely you weren’t talking to your girlfriend like that.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” she said, wrenching out of his grasp at last.

“You’re both cunts,” Matt said as he pulled the hand he had on Zoe’s wrist and turned away. The momentum of it caused her to fall backwards onto her ass in the grass. A big shadow was suddenly over her and as the guy tried to step past her, Zoe grabbed onto his jeans.

“Please don’t get into a fight over this. He’s not worth it and I’ll never see him again. I appreciate your help.” She looked up then and the biker was looking down at her. That was when her heart stopped. She knew that face. It was the face of her dreams, and stitched onto the front of his vest was the name “Levi.” Zoe felt dizzy and she had to sit back on her heels to keep from passing out. She’d never believed in ghosts or superstitions before…but this was getting a little bit ridiculous.