Page 195 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

She rubbed it away, shielded by the heels of her hands, her
protest still blocked inside of her.
“Anything else?” Priya asked, her voice gentle.
Greta nodded and took a drink of lukewarm fake limo-
nata, trying to clear a way for more words. “I always felt
stupid for saying no to Dylan the second time, when I’d
already slept with him before.” She heard the words outside
her mouth, how absurd they sounded. But she’d gone this far.

“Like, in a way I triggered what happened after.”
“Well, Greta,” Priya said, “you didn’t consent to sleeping
with him the first time. Also, what are you, a blow-up doll?
You could’ve said yes a hundred times and still had a right to
say no the hundred and first.”
Greta nodded, her voice gone again. On one level she
had already known it, everything Priya said. But hearing it

out loud, from another person, freed her. This load she had
carried with her, tried to sort through, rejected, then always
picked up again—she could finally stand on the precipice
and hurl it off the edge. She watched the rocks and boul -
ders shrink to pebbles as they fell, then disappeared. Maybe
gone for good.
Greta wanted to thank Priya again but was tired of that
word—so useless and bland. Feelings like what she had right
now should come with a gift-wrapped box of puppies and a

mariachi band. Here, Priya. This is how I feel. This.
Priya smiled and touched Greta’s hand again, squeezing it
tightly. “Greta, I’m your woman on the inside now. What do
you want me to do?”

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