Page 72 of The Last Session

“I’m so glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.” She gestured with her chin. “You can put your stuff on that chair over there.”

All right. This was happening. I’d always felt reasonably comfortable around naked women anyway; I regularly went to a spa in Brooklyn with a swimsuit-optional area. I stripped quickly, setting my clothes and towel on top of Moon’s. I turned on the shower next to her, setting down my toiletries.

She stared at me, smiling, as I played with the temperature. She seemed incredibly comfortable, probably more so than when she had clothes on. And for good reason: she looked great. I felt jealousy mingling, at both her appearance and her confidence.

“So you wanted to talk to me?” I squirted shampoo into my hand, feeling resigned. If anyone else came in to shower, they’d see our bodies head to toe.

“Yeah. I’m just so, so happy you’re here.” She soaped up a shower pouf, then rubbed it over her neck and shoulders. She tilted her head, still gazing at me. Was she flirting?

“Me too.” I could play along with the positive, peace-vibes bullshit—I was good at that. And with the shock of the stolen diary still swirling in my mind, I wasn’t up to anything more complicated. “This place you’ve created… It’s just incredible.”

Could she and Sol have taken the diary? Of the other attendees, Jonah and Mikki had both remarked on it. But anyone could’ve come in and searched my yurt.

“Thank you. A lot of people worked really hard on it.” She soaped her breasts. I looked away, my cheeks growing warm. “So I wanted to ask you: What made you come here?”

“Oh.” The easy question relieved me. “Relationship issues. Like everyone else.” When I opened my eyes, she was scrubbing her armpits, looking thoughtful.

“Hmm.” She swabbed her stomach.

“You wanted a different answer?” I tried to sound playful, but a shiver of paranoia ran up my neck.

“Steven said you were in the storage room.” Her amber eyes flicked back to mine. She widened her legs, started soaping between her thighs. I averted my gaze.

“Yeah, sorry. I heard something upstairs…” I washed my arms and belly over and over. I couldn’t clean anything else with her watching me like that.

“You said you listened to the podcast,” she said.

“That’s right.”

“Which episode called you here?” She turned, still smiling.

“The last one. The one where you were talking about that boy you had a crush on.”

“Oh yes.” She nodded. “Carlos. You had a crush like that too?”

“Yeah, in a sense. He was an actor, though. I didn’t know him personally.”

“What actor?”

“Sebastian Smith?”

“Ah.” She grinned hugely. “I remember him.”

“Yeah. He was in that movieStargirl.” After hesitating, I gestured. “You must’ve seen it, too, right?”

Her eyes remained blank.

“Your tattoo.” I pointed to her shoulder. “That’s from the movie.”

“Oh.” She laughed. “Coincidence. This symbol is from a dream I had as a kid.”

“What does it mean?”

“Who knows?” She shrugged. “I used to draw it over and over. It felt like a map I didn’t want to forget.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed her. But she continued: “Were you an only child, Thea?”

“I was, actually.” How did she know?

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