Christina lived off Patterson Avenue in Richmond’s West End. As Angie drove through the darkened, empty streets, neither woman spoke. They were both lost in their own thoughts—Angie was sure Christina was reliving the horror of the attack, and she hated the places her own mind was going. Was it bad to hope maybe they might see each other after tonight was over? Would it be inappropriate to hit on Christina now, so soon after what had happened?
Angie had never been with another woman, so she didn’t know what was right or wrong in this situation. She knew what she would want—comfort, friendship, nothing more—but what did Christina want? If she asked, would that ruin this tenuous tie between them?
There were dozens of books written on heterosexual relationships, but she had yet to find one
