Burton looked back at this woman who had suddenly, without a word, sought to express sympathy to him. His instinctive first thought, inevitably, was that she was crazy, and went around touching people on the subway randomly. But she was employed— by the very hospital he had just been in; her keycard identified her as Bonnie Lukowski, R.N.— and with the reassurance of some level of normalcy he had to admit that her gesture, on a bad day, was welcome. It was human, and he needed that. He made a smile, or something like half a smile mixed with eight other hapless and equivocal things, back at her.Had he seen her there? He couldn't remember. She was a short, round, boxy woman, but he didn't mind that. What struck him more was that she had big, sympathetic eyes, and a kind of fleshiness that reminded him of a woman he had once known, who liked to have sex in front of a big picture window. That was how they'd met, in fact— apartments side by side, and she had begun putting on shows in front. I swear I had never seen Connor with a girl. He'd never had a girlfriend, unless you count the time we were in seventh grade and Kacie Yonder held his hand on a dare. Not that Connor was ugly, he was just ... weird. He mumbled a lot and wore his hair too long, covering his eyes. He loved to draw and paint. That was something my dad wasn't so proud of but let slide, since Connor did some pretty damn good paintings. I watched how he and his friends talked and noticed the pretty girls. I didn't have a clue what kind of girls Connor was into. Was he even into girls? It always made me wonder."Hey! Guess what?"My thoughts were interrupted by Jamie, one of my best friends. She was approaching me, along with my friend, Rachel and our other friend, Patti. "Oh God you'll never guess!" she squealed.I rolled my eyes and leaned on the stairs rail. "Jamie, just tell us. You know we hate it when you do this." Yeah. I'm not in no guessing mood." Rachel spat out. She had just been telling us that she.
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