As much as I’d love to get to know Kyle more now that I have him all to myself, the truth is I’m exhausted from moving. I was up at the crack of dawn and there isn’t an inch of me that doesn’t ache. Just being on the sofa beside him makes me realize how tired I am, and the longer I sit here, the more it feels like I’m never going to move again. My arms are heavy, my legs sore, my head grows fuzzy…even the magazine in my lap seems to weigh a hundred pounds, and turning the pages is too much work, so after a while I just let it lay there, open to a page of text that blurs together in front of me. My eyes can’t focus on the tiny print, and my ears don’t want to concentrate on what Kyle’s saying. But it isn’t until my chin touches my chest that I realize I’m falling asleep.
“Hey,” he says, sh
