Chapter 8
I COULDN'T FOCUS ON anything, after Joelle left. I tried watching TV, but I couldn't concentrate. I just kept pacing the floor, walking my apartment in quick circles, feeling dizzy but never slowing down. I couldn't even bring myself to fix dinner.
Every time I passed the table, I swiped a grape into my mouth, or a strawberry, or a melon ball. Every time I ate that fruit, I thought about Joelle's lips. I thought about her lips and throbbed impulsively.
Finally, I stopped pacing. I stared at the fruit platter. The papaya halves hadn't been touched. I can understand why: Rajan had removed the outer shell, but not the big black seeds. The fruit hadn't been sliced into bite-sized bits. I guess they were mostly there for looks. And those papaya halves looked, to me, like
