fact or fiction

 Lindy was doing her best to keep in hiding these days. She didn't want to see anyone. Especially, after the New Year's Eve moment. It was still a mystery she couldn't get out of her mind, but then again she might have made too much out of it.

A stranger made out with her in the hallway outside her apartment. Seriously, it took her by surprise because she couldn't remember the last time she kissed anyone. But he seemed to know her quite well and she wasn't drunk. She was never drunk.

"Have we..." she was practically mute wondering when they'd been together. She didn't know him. 

"No, we just hung out before." Supposedly, they'd shared a joint of some kind last year.

Still, it meant nothing to her. She had to wonder if she had a personality she didn't know about. Naturally, she found herself apologizing when she was certain it should have been Chad, but she knew she would keep on top of it. Whatever that might mean..she'd stay to herself and hope she never met him again.

But work was so troubling. She hated it. It seemed they wanted to send her to so many places and she didn't know the way. It was true, she had no sense of direction.

Lindy found herself waiting for the kettle to boil then forgetting to make tea. She almost caught the kitchen stove on fire once so she only ate cold-cut sandwiches now. 

How was she like this? Had she always been this way? And one got used to this kind of life, just one more jolt after another. 

And then Jay showed up with a friend. "How have you been?" He wanted to know. "You haven't called."

"Was I supposed to?" She didn't know. His mother was only a friend of her father's. He really didn't owe her anything.

"Well, this is my friend Slater and you live in his building. I just wondered if you'd want to come and eat with us at his place. It would be just the four of us." He explained that Slater lived with his pregnant girlfriend.

She gave him a nod. Of course, she was hungry. Starving in fact. And of course, she finished her plate of enchiladas before anyone else.

They looked at her as if something must be wrong.

"Oh, I just really love Mexican food," she smiled hoping no one would ask any more of her. It was hard to be normal when you didn't really know what normal was anymore.