Breaking Away

Leaving some things—or people, or horses—behind was harder than I thought it would be.

“Tá tudo bem,” I said, patting Preta’s long neck. My beautiful gray mare tilted her head to me and nudged my shoulder with her wet nose. Smiling, I leaned over the stall door and hugged her. “Hannah will take care of you.” In the next stall, Argus nickered. I turned to him. “Sim, you better take good care of her too.”

“I know he will,” Hannah said, entering her ranch’s stable. She had a sweet smile on her lips, but her dark green eyes looked at me with concern. That was how everyone looked at me lately, and I was getting sick of it. Hannah stopped by my side and watched both horses. “He’s in love.”

I scratched Preta’s wither. “So is she.”

That was the main reason I was leaving my mare here. Because Argus and Preta behaved like an old married couple. Not because my father and I had had the fight of the century two nights ago, and I had left promising never to come back. Not at all.

Hannah leaned on the back wall. “Excited?”

I faced her and rested my butt on the stall’s door, allowing Preta to keep nuzzling my back. I needed my mare’s comforting and supporting touch right now.

My entire life, I did whatever was good for my brothers’ and cousin’s polo career. Dropping out of vet school and following them from Brazil to the U.S. a little over a year ago had been the culminating point. We had always traveled all over the world for tournaments and contracts, but we had never talked about moving. Much less to another country.

At first, it was like a new, fun adventure. So much to see, so much to explore. However, after a couple of months, I grew tired of it. All I did was follow them to the club for training, then back home. Even riding by myself, without a time frame or obligations, had been hard to squeeze in with their busy calendar.

I loved my family with every drop of my blood, but I wasn’t the type to sit pretty and smile. I would rather run around, muck out a stall or two, get my hands dirty, and feel useful.

My patience had a limit, and I had reached it a long time ago.

“Sim. And nervous too.”

She nodded. “I know. You’ll be fine, though. You’re smart and pretty. Girls will want to know all your secrets and boys will fall head over heels for you.”

“Boys? Who’s talking about boys?” Leo strolled in the stable. As usual, my twin brother wore jeans and no shirt.

“Eita.” I slapped my hand over my eyes. “Put on a T-shirt.”

Hannah laughed. Of course, she was laughing. He was her boyfriend. She probably enjoyed staring at his chest. I didn’t.

“Don’t change the subject, senhorita.” Leo halted beside Hannah and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Most of the time, it was cute to see how much they loved each other. But sometimes, it was sickening. Didn’t they get tired of being together all the time? “I’ll punch any boy who looks at you the wrong way.”

I rolled my eyes. “Leo, we just turned twenty-two. I don’t need your protection anymore.”

He shrugged. “You’ll be fifty and I’ll still be watching over you.”

“Meu Deus. Good thing I’ll be many miles away.”

His happy demeanor fell through, and a knot appeared between his brows. “Too many miles away.”

And I couldn’t wait for it.

I whirled around and patted Argus’s neck then kissed Preta’s forehead. “Be a good girl, okay.” I inhaled a deep breath and put on a smile before facing my brother and his girlfriend. “I should get going.” After all, I had to drive seventeen hours to get to Colorado.

Without waiting for an answer, I marched out of the stables to the parking lot beside the main house, hearing Leo’s and Hannah’s footsteps as they followed me.

After I told him of my plans a month ago, Leo decided I shouldn’t leave without a car. He said it would be helpful to have my own set of wheels wherever I went, so he gave me a brand new red Grand Cherokee for our birthday. I wanted another SUV, but since Jeep was his sponsor, I had no say in it. Besides, I hadn’t set up my own bank account here in the U.S. since we moved. At the time, it didn’t seem like a big thing, since I had debit and credit cards from my parents’ account, and I didn’t need to ask permission to buy anything. That changed after my fight with my father. Now, I didn’t feel like taking his money for anything, and I depended on Leo’s bank account. He insisted he didn’t mind, but I did.

I opened the driver’s door and stared inside for a moment. I had jammed everything I owned in there, everything I had brought from Brazil and bought here since. It didn’t look like much, but the car was about to explode clothes and boots and cowboy hats everywhere.

Sighing, I faced Leo and Hannah. “Thanks. For everything.”

Hannah pulled me into a hug. “Drive safe. Call us every time you stop to eat or rest. And call us when you get there. Take care. Have fun. And—”

“Okay, Mom,” I teased, breaking the hug. Leo opened his arms, and I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not hugging you. Put on a T-shirt first, then we can talk about it.”

Ignoring me, he wound his arms around me. “Come here.” I squirmed, which made him squeeze me tighter. “Everything Hannah said, okay? Be a good girl.”

I stepped back and shook my head at him. “I’m always a good girl.” He snorted, but I decided this wasn’t the time to start an argument. I slipped inside my SUV and looked at them. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Farewell,” Hannah said.

“Tchau,” Leo said.

I turned on the engine, closed the door, put on my seat belt, and tuned the radio to a loud country song before driving out of the parking lot, off the ranch, and taking the first step into my new life.

***

The University of Fort Howell, located in the tiny town of Fort Howell, Colorado, just east of Aurora, buzzed with life. Classes started Wednesday, but today the dorms and the registrar office opened, allowing students to get ready and acquainted with the campus, and with new friends.

As I drove through the streets, students walked up and down, carrying boxes, bags, sofas, mattresses. Parents took pictures instead of helping. Cars were parked in non-parking spaces or were doubled parked. There were smiles and tears everywhere.

After driving seventeen hours, not counting my stops and the nap I took at a rest area during the night, I was so tired that I didn’t think I would feel anything once I got here. Tche, I was wrong.

Butterflies danced in my stomach, my hands shook, and my palms sweated. A stupid smile adorned my lips, and I knew I looked like a dork. This was it. This was me, living my life, taking charge. Who cared about not transferring almost any classes from the two years of vet school in Brazil? Who cared if I had to take two years of pre-vet to be able to apply to vet school here? I was young. I had time. This was my chance to start anew, to do it better, to be better.

Following the campus map, I turned on the Greek Lane and instantly got the name. Large houses lined the street, with lush, green lawns, colorful flowers and tall trees, porches or archways, and big Greek letters flat against a prominent wall.

The famous Greek life. Brazil didn’t have anything like it, which made me that much more curious about it.

I slowed down, scanning around. Soon I realized that the left side of the street harbored sororities, and the right side housed fraternities. In the front lawn of the sororities, girls ran to other girls, embracing, squealing, and jumping up and down. In front of the fraternities, guys walked to other guys, bumped fists, shook hands, slapped backs.

At the last fraternity house of the street, marked by the letters BAT, a guy was sprawled on a lounge chaise in the middle of the front lawn, under the shade of an umbrella and drinking what looked like a colorful margarita. Around him, other guys played with a football, throwing it at each other, often bumping each other or stopping to gawk at girls who arrived at the sororities or walked down the sidewalk.

One of the guys pointed to a sorority house. “Look!” he yelled. The others turned, and they all looked at whatever. Despite it all, I looked too. However, before I could see anything, something hit the passenger door of my car. On instinct, I sank my foot on the break.

As I exited my car, one of the guys from BAT jogged in my direction.

“Sorry about that,” he said, picking the ball from the ground. “Garrett, there—” He gestured toward a tall guy standing a few yards from him. Wearing a dark brown cowboy hat and cowboy boots, Garrett turned his attention from the sorority house to me. One corner of his lips quirked up and he tipped his hat. “—was supposed to catch the ball.”

“But he was busy gawking at the girls across the street,” I said.

The guy smiled. “Well, yes.”

I shook my head and examined my car. A tiny dent marked the passenger door.

“Great,” I muttered.

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice your accent. Where are you from?”

That was always one of the first things anyone said or asked me in any conversation.

“Brazil,” I said.

The guy’s eyes widened. “Wow. For real?” I nodded. “Cool.” Still smiling, he took a step closer to me. “I always heard Brazilian girls were beautiful.” His eyes raked me from head to toe and back. He seemed to like my faded jeans, cowboy boots, and tank top. “Glad to know it’s true.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“Hey, Jeff,” Garrett called. “You’re hogging the ball, bro.”

“I gotta …” Jeff pointed back to his friends. What? Did he think I wanted to stand here in the middle of the street, messing with traffic, just to talk to him? “I’ll probably see you around. Right?”

“Yeah, sure.” I waved him off.

After glaring at the dent in my door for ten more seconds, I marched around my car and slipped inside. I avoided looking at the BAT house as I drove by and turned onto another street.

***

From the outside, the dorm building looked like most buildings in Brazil—four stories, with several windows lining the red-brownish walls. Except for the part where there were full apartments inside Brazilian edifices, and here there were tiny bedrooms and common bathrooms. That was going to be hard to get used to.

Since all the buildings looked the same, I slowed down again, reading the banners on top of each main entrance, looking for my future home, the Linda Hudson Residence. It was right beside the Colton Hudson Residence. Go figure.

The parking lot was behind my building, and I had almost given up parking there when I found an unoccupied spot in the back.

Holding my purse and a small bag, I entered the Linda Hudson Residence, climbed up one flight of stairs, and turned right, looking for room number 216. The room door was ajar. A girl stood in the middle of the room, and an older couple sat on one of the beds.

“Look, dear, this must be your roommate,” the woman said.

A blond girl with beautiful curls and brown eyes turned to me with a big smile. “Hi! Are you in room 216 too?”

“Yes,” I said.

The bedroom wasn’t as small as I thought it would be, but it wasn’t that great either. If there was a line running across the room, I could say the sides were symmetrical. A wooden twin bed, thin mattress, nightstand, desk and chair, a drawer chest, and a door, which was probably the closet.

Apparently, the girl had arrived here early, because her things were already spread over the right side of the bedroom. Pink comforter and pillow on the bed, pink lamp and alarm clock on the nightstand, books on the desk, and portraits over the drawer chest.

“Come in, then,” the girl said. I couldn’t help but notice the fitted pink polo she wore and the big Greek letters on the left side. “I’m Molly Stuart, your roommate.”

“I’m Beatriz Fernandes.” I stepped inside, dragging my bag over the worn beige carpet, and turned to the unoccupied side of the room. “But I prefer Bia.”

“Cool. Bia. I like it,” Molly said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I chose a side without waiting for you.”

I dropped my bags on my bed. “It’s fine.”

She introduced me quickly to her parents. They were from Denver and had come with Molly for her first day at school. They did that every semester, even though she was starting her third year here. As expected, they asked about my family.

I thought about lying because I didn’t want anyone pointing at me with one of three options. A, they loved my brothers and my cousin and were big fans, which meant they would bother me. B, they knew about Leo and everything involving him: his problematic phase and last year’s tragic events, in which case they would pity me or be wary of me. C, they knew nothing about polo and never heard of my family before.

Even if they knew who my brothers and cousin were, lying wasn’t for me. I was proud of my family, even through the rough patches.

“My brothers play polo, and my father is the coach.” Then I lied, “They are at a big tournament this week, and I didn’t want to bother them.”

“That’s nice of you,” Molly’s mother said. “Well, if you need anything, let us know. We’ll be in town until the weekend to make sure Molly is okay. We don’t mind helping Molly’s friends.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“We’ll let you girls get to know each other now,” Molly’s father said. He kissed Molly’s forehead. “We’ll pick you up later for dinner. You’re invited to come too, Bia.”

“Thanks,” I said again.

Once her parents walked out of the room, Molly closed the door and leaned against it. She smiled at me, her eyes sparkling. “Let the party begin!”

Two hours later, Molly and I had unloaded all of my things, dropping all the boxes and bags on the floor.

“I’m not going to organize this mess right now,” I said, sitting on my bare mattress.

“Don’t sit there!” Molly shrieked.

I jumped to my feet. “Why?”

“You don’t know where this mattress has been, what people might have done on it, with it.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “If you sleep on it, make sure to put several sheets, but if I were you, I would buy a new mattress ASAP.”

I nodded, making a mental note to browse the internet later for a local mattress store. The perks of never having lived in a dorm before. It seemed I had a lot of things to learn.

“Come on.” She picked up my purse from the chair. “Let’s take a break.”

“Where are we going?”

She smiled. “I’m going to show you around. There’s much to see.”

She wasn’t kidding. Molly and I walked around campus, stopping by the buildings where our classes would be; by the gym, which, according to Molly, was a great place to meet hot guys; by the main square, where lots of events happened; by the bookstore, where we browsed for the books we needed to buy; and by a coffee place three blocks from our dorm.

Molly bought a white mocha latte, and I got a cappuccino before we sat at a table by the window.

So far, I had found out Molly would turn twenty-one in two months, this was her junior year too, and she was double majoring in business and French. During high school, she had been head cheerleader and valedictorian and dated the quarterback for almost two years, but they broke up right after prom. Here in college, she was taking it slow. She had a few dates, but nothing too serious.

“Life is a party and I want to enjoy my last two years here,” she said.

In turn, I told her where I was from, my age, that my two years in vet school had gone down the drain, though I was able to transfer a lot of core curriculum classes, putting me in my third year of pre-vet here. I also told her pre-vet was something that didn’t exist in Brazil, which bothered me to no end when I first found out. I almost gave up vet school because I didn’t want to lose a few years. However, I had come to terms with that, and I was embracing the American lifestyle.

“So tell me,” Molly started. “Is it too different from Brazil so far?”

“You mean, being in college?” I asked, and she nodded. “A little. First, universities in Brazil don’t have dorms. You can’t live on campus.”

“Are you serious? Then what do people do?”

“Live with your parents, or if you’re from out of town, rent an apartment.”

She blew on her steaming mug. “Interesting. What else?”

“Brazilian colleges don’t have a Greek system.”

“No way! But that’s so fun. I’m in a sorority—” She pointed to her polo shirt. The letters embroidered on it spelled ATN. “—and I love it! My parents belonged to Greek houses, and they loved it too. They met during a mixer. Oh, and they met their best friends there too.”

“It sounds like fun.”

“It is! You know, tomorrow night is rush night. I’ll be at the house helping out, but you should come. You should rush!”

“Um, I thought only freshmen were supposed to do that.”

She chuckled. “No. We accept girls from any year. You should do it.”

“I’m not sure.”

That was when those guys, Jeff and Garrett and the one lounging on a chaise in the middle of the front lawn, strolled past the coffee place, outside the window.

They tossed the football around, chatting. Jeff saw me and nudged the other two. Without slowing their steps, the other two turned their attention to me. Jeff waved, the nameless guy gave me a big, bright smile and winked, and Garrett showed me the same lopsided grin from before.

I stared at my coffee.

“Do you know them?” Molly asked.

“Not really. They hit my car with that damn football when I was arriving on campus. But other than that, I have no idea who they are.”

“The shortest one is Jeff Smith, the tallest one is Garrett Blackwell, and the blond one is Jonah Hudson. They’re—”

“Wait. Hudson? As in Colton and Linda Hudson?”

“Yes, those were his grandparents. They donated a lot of money to the university back when.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He’s loaded, and he’s the president of the Beta Alpha Tau fraternity, or The Bat for short. It’s the best fraternity on campus.”

Well, there were about six fraternities on campus. To me, that was a lot.

“So far, they seem full of themselves,” I said.

Molly laughed. “Like most college boys.” She pointed to where they disappeared. “But you saw how cute they are, right? Like, super cute.”

I shrugged, but the truth was, I noticed. I mean, I wasn’t a saint. I liked guys, and being in college meant getting to know lots of them.

I noticed Jeff, the shortest one, but still taller than my 5’7”, had an olive complexion and chocolate eyes, with short, dark hair. Jonah was taller than Jeff was, and had fair skin, blond hair cut in layers, and blue eyes. Garrett, the tallest of the trio, had tanned skin, messy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a five o’clock shadow covering his jaw and chin. And the three of them looked like they worked out.

“Yeah, they’re cute,” I admitted.

“If you rush my sorority, Alpha Tau Nu, you’ll be seeing more guys like them.” She leaned over the table, and for a second, I thought she would leap over it, clutch my shoulders, and shake me until I agreed. “Please. Come over, even if you’re not interested. If someone bids on you later, you can always pass.”

“I don’t know.”

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted the full American experience? It doesn’t get much more American than rushing sororities.”

She had a point.

Since the idea of going to college here in the U.S. bloomed in my mind, I promised myself I would experiment with new things and try the American way of life. Rushing and pledging sororities were part of it. Still, I wasn’t sure it was something I wanted.

“You get a maybe,” I said. Then I clamped my hands over my ears before Molly’s squeal made me deaf.

***

I ended up not going to rush night. Instead, I went out to buy a mattress, which was almost impossible to carry inside the building by myself. Graças a Deus for the girl who was ascending the stairs to go to a party and took pity on me and helped me out. After throwing the other mattress under the bed—I would deal with it later—and putting my new one in place, I organized my stuff around the room.

When she came back from the house, Molly seemed upset about me not showing up. I tried explaining to her that I didn’t think it was for me, but I liked the fact that she was into her sorority. She shrugged and didn’t look at me again until the next morning.

“Hello, sunshine!” she said, sitting up on her bed at 8 a.m. sharp.

At least she was in a better mood than last night.

“Bom dia,” I mumbled before pulling the covers over my head. Two seconds later, Molly yanked the covers away from me. “What the hell?”

“Come on.” Molly grinned. “We’ve got a big day today.”

Other than getting our student IDs in the afternoon and buying our books, I had no idea what she was talking about.

I hugged my pillow and turned my back to her. “My bed feels so good right now.”

“Come on, Bia!” She pulled my pillow away.

“Hey!”

She chuckled. “You have orientation all morning—”

“That’s optional.”

“—and we have to get our IDs and buy our books. Oh, and I’m going to introduce you to my friends. You’re gonna love them.”

After about fifteen minutes of her chipper self, I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave up and got out of bed. She hovered so close to me, I thought she would follow me into the bathroom. I would shove her off if she did. Graças a Deus, she didn’t, and I was able to take a shower and brush my teeth in peace. After much thought, I decided to go with my usual ensemble. No need to try to impress anyone or be someone I wasn’t.

Molly looked me up and down when I exited the bathroom. “You do take your cowgirl style seriously, don’t you?”

I glanced down. Jeans, a white tank top, thick black suede belt, and my favorite black and white Lucchese boots. If only she knew I almost reached for my black hat but decided it would be too much. For now.

I shrugged. “Anything wrong with it?”

“No, it’s not that.” She smiled. “I’m just not used to it.”

I looked at her clothes. A not too short jean skirt, a pink blouse with slight cleavage, and high-heeled sandals, and too many rings and bracelets and necklaces. Yeah, not my style.

Molly walked with me to orientation, and I was surprised when she stayed with me for the entire thing. I asked her a couple of times why the hell she wanted to sit through it if it was optional, and she wasn’t new to the university.

“Just because,” was her answer each time.

The girl probably didn’t have anything better to do, or she wanted a favor later, in which case I should be careful with what else she did for me just because.

After the boring introduction and brief tour of the main sites of the campus, Molly took me to a Panera Bread just off-campus.

“Bia, meet Audrey and Sarah.” Molly introduced me to two blond chicks who had on too much makeup for my taste. But then again, most American women—or little girls for that matter—wore too much makeup for my taste. She took a chair across the table from Audrey and Sarah. “This is the girl I told you about last night.” She gestured to the chair beside hers. “Audrey is the president of my sorority, and Sarah is the rush chair.”

I sat and stared at Molly. “Are you setting me up?”

She averted her eyes. “Not exactly.”

“She just wanted us to meet you,” Audrey said. Her blond hair fell in perfect waves down her back, and I wondered how many hours she spent in front of the mirror to get that effect each morning.

“We’re her friends and you’re her roommate,” Sarah said. She flipped her straight-as-a-board blond hair—this one also spent at least an hour flat ironing her hair every day—and looked me up and down. With her fancy skirt and pumps, I bet my jeans and boots didn’t really please her. “She says we’ll get along famously.”

I was starting to doubt that, but hey, I was the foreigner here and I didn’t mind diversity as long as everyone respected each other.

“I’m sure we will,” I said. Seeing as Audrey and Sarah were already waiting for their food, I stood. “Hey, Molly, why don’t we go order something?”

“Yeah, sure.” Molly stood and followed me to the cashier.

I ordered a panini and soda, and Molly got a salad and iced tea. When we returned to the table with our plates, Audrey and Sarah were almost through theirs. Not surprisingly, they were eating salad.

“What brings you to the United States, Bia?” Audrey asked as soon as I sat on my chair.

I had rehearsed this answer several times because this was another one people always asked me. “My family. My brothers are polo players, and they have a contract with an American club.” I just hoped they didn’t want more about it.

“Oh.” Sarah looked me up and down again. “But Brazilian girls aren’t exactly cowgirls, are they?”

I didn’t get that question often. “Like here, there are many kinds of girls in Brazil. There are a lot of farms and ranches in the state I was born, and lots of girls become sort of a cowgirl, called prenda.”

Audrey pushed her empty plate aside. “Interesting.”

“How about English?” Sarah asked. “I thought Brazilians spoke Spanish.”

I gritted my teeth and counted to twenty. I knew it wasn’t anyone’s obligation to know which language we spoke in Brazil, but Brazil had a huge rivalry with Argentina, and assuming we spoke Spanish was like saying we were Argentines. Or worse, that Buenos Aires was the capital of Brazil.

“Actually, we speak Portuguese,” I answered after calming down. “English is taught in schools, but that’s only the basics. There are private language schools in Brazil, and because of my brothers’ international career, my father thought it would be a good idea to learn English from a young age.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Audrey said, sounding uninterested.

We talked some more about college in Brazil and here, and how they were different. The same conversation I had had with Molly the day before.

“See,” Molly said. “She would be a great addition to the house.”

I was about to open my mouth and tell them I had zero interest in joining the sorority when Audrey said, “We have time to change your mind. Meanwhile, you can help us plan our stand for the Welcome Carnival on Saturday. Got any ideas?”

Banners for the Welcome Carnival were everywhere. Apparently, it was a huge evening event in the main courtyard, which happened every semester on the first Saturday after classes started.

Sarah leaned over the table and smiled. “I bet our carnival isn’t like your country’s Carnival, but I bet you’ll love it anyway.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. One, it was Carnaval, not Carnival, and two, I also bet it was different, but I wasn’t a big fan of it in Brazil. Maybe I would like this one better.

I forced a big smile. “I can’t wait.”

We were getting ready to leave when a girl with red curls stopped by our table. “Hello, girls,” she said, her tone a little sarcastic.

“Hello, Gina,” Audrey said, her expression closing.

Gina turned a bright smile to me. “Hi, there. You must be Bia, the Brazilian girl.” I gaped at her. How did she know that? “I’m Gina, president of the ZTZ. I know you missed rush night, but I want to invite you to the house tonight, so you can meet the girls and me.”

“That’s illegal,” Sarah said. She turned to me. “It’s against the rules to rush after the rush night, or to bid on someone before bidding night.”

“Oh,” was all I said.

Gina didn’t lose her composure though. “Girls, let’s be honest here. I know you bent the rules a few times, and you know I did too. Besides, I know you’re going to bid on Bia, so I’m here throwing my hat in the ring too.”

Audrey glared at her. “Take your freaking hat somewhere else.”

Unaffected, Gina smiled at me again. “Don’t worry about them, Bia. Just don’t forget you have other options. And I promise, our bid will be good.” She winked before leaving.

Sarah tilted her head to me. “Bia, if you plan on joining a sorority, you should know there’s no house better than ours.”

“True,” Audrey said. “And whatever her bid is, we’ll make it better.”

I almost told them that I wouldn’t join any sorority, no matter what bid I got, but maybe they would launch in an argument and try to convince me about why I should join if I did, and I wasn’t in the mood for that. Better to stay quiet.

I just nodded. “Okay.”

After leaving Panera, I actually had a good time with Molly, Audrey, and Sarah. We walked around campus, got our student IDs done, bought books for our classes, then stopped by a froyo stand between the science and the English buildings. They told me all about sororities and fraternities. I also found out most girls were allowed to live in the house, but Molly had a scholarship that involved boarding, which meant she had to live in the dorms.

The trio knew everyone around. We would take a step, and they would say hi to someone and call that person by his or her name. If I had to guess, they must have greeted at least three hundred students in the short time we spent together, and they actually knew all of their names. That alone would be a miracle for me.

Some people stopped and started conversations with them. Very polite and cordial, the girls introduced me with flare. Apparently, being Brazilian was an exciting thing, because everyone turned to me saying, “Really? That’s so great!” or things of the like. Shame I forgot the name of four of every five students they introduced me to in less than three seconds.

They had been nice to me and, even though we didn’t share the same tastes, that didn’t mean we couldn’t get along well.