The next morning, Charise rolled over and then slowly sat up in bed. She looked over at the other side of her bed. Empty. She sniffed the air. She smelled pancakes. She dressed herself, putting on the earring and necklace set, and then walked downstairs to the dining room, where Dunstan sat at the table, smoking a cigarette.

“Hey,” he greeted Charise. “I made you some pancakes. They’re in the kitchen. I have to jet in a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” Charise replied. "But I'm not hungry." She did not move to get a plate. She sat at the table, not sure of what to do. She wasn’t sure if she should bring up what happened last night.

“So, about last night,” Dunstan began. “What happened… well, we can’t let your folks know. But next year, Charise… next year, I promise, you and I can actually be together officially.”

Charise smiled and nodded. Dunstan rose, stubbed out his cigarette, and stretched. “And now, I have to go. I’ve got class in 45 minutes.” He leaned over and briefly kissed Charise. “Take care, gorgeous,” he said.

Charise followed him to the door. Dunstan opened the door and walked out. Charise stood on the porch, watching him. She saw a car drive up to the house. She recognized it immediately. It was S’s car!

“S,” she whispered.

S got out of his car for a better look. He looked from Dunstan to Charise and back again. S shook his head and climbed back into the car and drove away.

It would be at least a month before S would speak to Charise again.


Dunstan walked into his room, holding the pizza box. “Sorry I’m late,” he began. “There was traffic both coming and going, and the stupid pizza place took forever to make the pizza. And then--”

He looked around. No Charise. Charise’s clothes weren’t on the floor. “Charise?” he called out. No response.

“Women. Just like them to pick up and leave. Oh well, she’ll be back. She always comes back,” he said to himself, cracking open the box.




Charise sat in her car, driving home. She fiddled with the radio for a few seconds, trying to find a suitable station. Everything seemed to be playing music that fit her situation a little too well. She finally gave up and stopped on a random station. As if on cue, Alanis Morissette’s “Hands Clean” came through her speakers, and it was near the end of the song.

Charise groaned softly. “Is the universe plotting against me?” she muttered. She finally gave in and began singing along:

Just make sure you don't tell on me especially to members of your family
We best keep this to ourselves and not tell any members of our inner posse
I wish I could tell the world cuz you're such a pretty thing when you're done up properly
I might want to marry you one day if you watch that weight and keep your firm body.