Darius Fletcher woke from a dream of Elvis Presley in a leotard. Don’t be cruel, sang the

King of Rock and Roll. Lisa’s ringtone. The blue glow of the cable box said 3:55 AM. Why

was she calling?

Fletcher gently slid his arm from beneath the mass of blonde hair lying next to

him. Mary Beth was a light sleeper. He picked up his cell phone and padded out to the

living room.

“Hello?” Light from the Starbuck’s sign across the street filtered in through the

blinds, painting the apartment’s shag an ugly fluorescent green. It reminded him of St

Patrick’s day.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

A dark chasm of dread open at the sound of her voice. “Lisa. What’s wrong?”

She was halfway across the country, at the University of Chicago. “Why are you calling?”

A sharp squeal of laughter. “Oh, no! Did I wake you? Gosh darn it, I forgot about

the time change thing again.”

“What’s wrong?” he repeated.

She emitted a huff of impatience at the question, like a miniature freight train.

The little engine that could. “Nothing’s wrong, Honey. It’s just that…well, I have some

good news, and I have a little bad news.”

“What is it?” He heard Mary Beth stirring in the bedroom, and he quickly

covered the mouthpiece.

“Nope, I’m not telling you, Darry. You have to guess.” She only called him Darry

when feeling playful, or planning some new way to screw up his life.

“Is it your finals?” he said. “Did you pass?” The hum of his electric toothbrush

came from the bathroom. He had to go shopping today. He might love Mary Beth, but

that didn’t mean sharing his toothbrush with her.

“No,” she said. “I mean, yes. I passed.”

Afraid he already knew the worst, he pressed on. “Then what is it?”

“Don’t get cranky, Darius.”

“I’m not. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Well, I talked to my guidance counselor. Since I have so many extra credits, he

said I can graduate a semester early. I’m coming home, darling! Isn’t that great news?”

Over the droning in his ears came the sound of Mary Beth gargling, followed by

the flush of the toilet. “So what’s the bad news?”

“The bad news is you have to clean your apartment, you messy boy. Daddy was

so anxious to see me, he had his secretary book a flight for today. I get in to LAX at

4:15.”

“That’s—” Fletcher noticed a tiny blot of color at the edge of the couch. He

tugged a pair of Mary Beth’s panties from between the tattered cushions. “That’s great

news.”

She rolled on. “After my parents pick me up, we’re coming straight over. I hope

you don’t mind.”

“What?” He’d promised Mary Beth to help pack this afternoon. She was moving

into his apartment—this apartment—in three days. “Why?” he asked.

“What do you mean, why? They’re taking us to dinner, so we can discuss the

wedding arrangements.”

“Oh—” Mary Beth stood in the hallway, wearing only a grin. She crooked a finger

at him as he sat stricken on the couch, his cell phone clutched like a gun against his ear.

“Darling, are you okay? You don’t sound very excited.”

“No, that’s not what I...it’s just that it’s all so sudden.”

“You are going to clean up your apartment before we get there, aren’t you? You

know how my mother is.”

Mary Beth stood him, hands on her hips. An Italian pizza chef leered up at

Fletcher from between her thighs; last night’s empty pizza box. For the first time, he

noticed that one of her breasts was smaller than the other.

Her eyes narrowed at the sound of Lisa’s voice. “I thought you told her—” she

hissed.

“Darry, are you listening to me?” Lisa’s voice took on the rich girl tone she got

when he watched baseball. Pay attention to me! She paused, suspicious now. “Is

someone there with you?”

“No!” he said. “No. It’s just the TV. Hold on a minute.” He covered the phone and

waved violently at Mary Beth. “Just give me a minute, would you?”

She glared down at him. “You’re an asshole,” she said, then stomped back to the

bedroom.

He’d dreaded this moment for weeks, had postponed it since the day he asked

Mary Beth to move in with him. He was breaking off the marriage with Miss High and

Mighty Lisa Richards, despite her family’s millions.

“Okay, I’m back. Listen, I have to tell you something.”

“Yes? What is it, Darry?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“I’m all ears,” she crooned, playful again.

“I—” Fletcher found it difficult to breathe.

“Darry? Are you okay? You’re scaring me, honey.”

He tipped his head back on the couch. A cobweb dangled from the ceiling. A few

flies and bits of dirt hung suspended there. The sound of Mary Beth’s weeping came

down the hall. Fletcher steeled himself for the inevitable.

“Lisa...I’ve missed you. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I love you too, dear. I can’t wait to see you. Big hugs.”

Fletcher hung up the phone. Now what? In twelve hours, his high-school

sweetheart—the love of his life—would be at his door, with her arrogant, pricky parents

at her side.

“Mary Beth?” he called.

No answer. “Honey?”

From the bedroom came the thump of her overnight bag. “What do you want?”

“Is there—?” Fletcher took a deep breath. “Do you have room at your place for

my stuff?”