“So I’ve decided that I’m going to be your boyfriend,” he said as he handed her another napkin. “Is that so?” “Yup,” he replied. “This is our first date.” “Yes!”  He grabbed his own slice of pizza from the vendor. She took a bite of her slice.  “OK. Do I have any say in the …

Thinking back, she couldn’t recall whose idea it was to share the earbuds that night. She could definitely remember enjoying the closeness. She also remembered how, to that point, she really only loved his stubble in theory. She thought. But that night. Lightly rubbing her cheek. She got it. In what sounded like a far …

She changed love for him. She changed it and she made it seem… plausible. And now he has probably fucked it all up. He knew that he would eventually. Down deep. Still… She is pretending to sleep, as he sits at the foot of her bed in his boxer briefs. He balls and unballs his …

She pushes herself to climb the steps between the first and second floor of her favourite bar. She catches a glimpse of her reflection in the wall of mirrors. She ignores the blurry backdrop that is a rippling mass of cleavage and Axe body spray and lies and bad decisions happening on the dance floor. …

Two and a half cups of all-purpose flour land in a bowl with a soft thud and a mini “poooof.” The cloud has barely settled when one and a half cups of sugar arrive, creating a mound surrounded by mini gopher holes, on the surface of what looks like some distant frozen continent. Or planet. …

school’s been over for her for a while but still still she gets that feeling every year at this time sadness that the summer is ending and not yet feeling the excitement of new beginnings of possibilities of wearing her scarves more often and the wind whips at her hair jealous of it probably but …

My paternal grandparents lived in a small town on the north side of my island. Seven miles away. We went there a lot when we were kids. Especially in the summer. They lived in a white, two-story house. Despite my grandfather’s wizardry with wooodworking, the floors in the back of the house — both stories …

She always applies her perfume with her eyes shut. Kisses feel better in the dark. She dresses as if someone is watching.  She undresses as if she’s being chased. She believes she’s more open to possibilities when her hair is up. Her hair is up. She knows what she does to men. Sometimes she even …

“But I don’t HAVE an accent,” she said.  With an accent.  “Tell him I don’t have an accent, y’all.” Looking from one friend to another. Messy ponytail bouncing. I just stared. I may have blinked. A couple times. Every syllable dripped with sweetness. But not too much.  You know? It was barely above a whisper, …