7
“Nadine.”
I turned and found Cheryl crossing the street to where I stood on the sidewalk outside the university café.
“Nad, how are you?”
“Good, I think,” I mumbled, unsure of what to say. I glanced at my watch. I had six minutes before my shift started.
“You know, I was thinking about what happened at the bookstore the other day. You never explained to me what that was,” she said, then hesitated, probably expecting I would snap at her and refuse to elaborate. Cheryl had seen me zone out a few times, and I always pretended nothing happened. “Should I be worried?”
“It’s nothing.” I forced a smile. “You don’t need to worry about these episodes. Probably low blood sugar.”
“Come on.” Cheryl placed a hand on my back and pushed me into the café. Inside, she sat at her usual spot. “Tell
