I leaned into her face. "Clearly."

"Why are you being so rude to me tonight? Did the doctor gene finally kick in?"

"You know what Everly Anne? Tell your friend, your boyfriend, whoever-the-fuck is having surgery, that sending you to watch some stupid show at night all alone isn't the brightest idea in the world. If he had an ounce of feeling and respect for you he wouldn't ask you to do such stupid shit. P.S. the show sucks. Most people choke as soon as they step on stage. There was only one person who nailed it, and she's been dead for ten years." I shoved my bag higher on my shoulder and said, "Goodnight."

I lost her in the crowd of people as I walked away, and when I turned back, she was gone.

The urge to rewind my footsteps had never been greater.

The cafe was packed with people as Noelle stepped on the small stage in the left side of the cafe. I could only watch from the door as she revealed that the act tonight was Saint Valentine.

And who was playing her? Everly Anne Brighton. Of course.

She looked so much different on stage then she had in class as the main attraction. This Everly was an exclamation versus a question. But she was still her. The bright hair, the underlying shyness, the curious eyes. The way she moved as if she was following music no one else could hear; with measured steps and thoughtful rhythm.

"Fucking hot!" A person from the crowed cursed as they sipped their coffee too fast.

"Well, thank you." Everly replied without missing a beat. They ate it up, clapping and laughter resounded.

"Are you in love?" Someone called out.

"I am love, so I am always in it because I am always myself."

"Will I find my soul mate?"

"Find your own soul first, and then worry about its mate."

"Why are men such shit?"

She found Logan, stared him in the face. "Some questions just answer themselves." They loved it, offered her a round-of-applause.

"Have you ever fallen in love at first sight?" Noelle called out.

"Yes," she sighed. Her eyes roamed the room until she reached me standing in the doorway. Everly paused as we searched each other again, for reason, for answers. She flicked back to Noelle suddenly, and said, "Snickerdoodles."

Noelle stood and whooped up the crowd to applaud her efforts.

Everly stepped off stage, her bravado shrunken down to miniature size as someone else became the star.

In the shadows she was wrapped in that same yellow sweater from class.

Our eyes met again, but she was different, and a wholly other concept of beauty as she shyly turned away to thank the girl behind the counter and graciously took a cup of coffee. I moved away from the door and back to where I had waited for her earlier, against the brick wall. But she didn't search for me when she exited this time. Everly took her cup of coffee across the street and sat on a bench in front of a delicatessen. She was alone, with eyes that didn't look up. There was no wondering or hopefulness. She traced her finger around the plastic rim of her cup and didn't lift it to her mouth.

I felt like a traitor to walk away, to leave her unprotected and doubtful; especially when I had the warmth of her hand still on my arm. But I did walk away, only to have her ghost follow me home. Her warmth remained on my arm as I tried to study and ignore the emptiness in my gut. But I kept seeing that man's hand reaching for her. His finger trailing up her leg. Her looking at me in the doorway with love on her lips. Her looking at me let-down that I might have stood up for Cecily when Logan had harassed her in class every day. Walking away from her because I couldn't deal with words like love on theater night.

But she remained beside me when I turned off the lights and closed my eyes.

Her hand was right there on my arm asking me to stay.

By that point I had been awake for nearly twenty-seven hours straight. A part me longed to conclude the night was all a hallucination, because nothing so short-lived should have felt so encompassing. All I could rely on was the warmth that would not subside. It blanketed over me, lulling me to sleep with blunt truth: Something in my spirit had changed, something so large that I had been woken up by a sleeping girl.

Once You Become Real I was on the fifteenth hour of my forty-eight hour shift, in the neonatal wing, thanks to my best friend, and the only nurse who didn't hold contempt for my rookie status, Tatum Quade. The halls were quiet as we watched the nursery from the window.

"So, how many times have you thought about quitting this year?" she asked.

"None."

She laughed. "Liar."

"It's not so bad. The long hours suck, but it's the politics and drama is what makes it unbearable."

"And having Dr. Brighton as your attending."

"That would be the politics and drama, Tot."

She soured. "He's giving you a hard time because of Andrew?"

I turned to her. "His daughter is our patient in a differential."

"Gross."

"And . . ."

We've been friends since elementary school. Not much else needed to be said.

"His daughter? You slept with his sick daughter? Callum!"

Okay, much was left to be said.

"No I didn't sleep with her. There's this thing though."

"Yes. It's called a penis. A penis that makes you stupid. Stupid enough to make you toss all your hopes and dreams out the window for one little piece of ass."