Shackled by Tom Leveen

you look good.”
    â€œYeah? Cool. Thanks. You too.”
    â€œDavid, hello,” Mom said, stepping beside me. “I’m Kris, Penelope’s mom. How are you?”
    â€œGood,” David said, stretching out a hand. Mom shook it, looking impressed. “We won’t be out late or anything.”
    Mom waved him off. “Oh, take your time,” she said. “I’m just glad—”
    Mom paused, took a breath, then finished, “Glad to get her out of my hair for a night.” She rubbed my back in rough circles.
    â€œReady, then?” I said to David before Mom came any closer to being a total embarrassment.
    â€œYeah, let’s go,” David said. To Mom, he said, “Nice to meet you.”
    Mom said good-bye and followed us to the door. I felt her eyes on us the entire walk to his car.
    â€œSo, was that a thing?” David asked as we reached his car. “With your mom?”
    â€œSort of,” I said.
    â€œAre you, like, in trouble now? Because I don’t want you to—”
    â€œNope,” I said. “Everything’s fine. Where did you say we were going?”

NINE
    We didn’t talk much on the drive. I kept folding and refolding my hands in my lap, chewing my lips raw, hating that I’d left my smokes at home, wondering when the next big meltdown was going to arrive.
    Yet somehow I made it to the restaurant without getting kidnapped or killed. For once, I felt my heartbeat slow down a bit. It still raced along; I still kept swiveling my head in every possible direction to look for threats; my stomach still rolled and jolted.
    But I was here .
    David guided us into Orange Table, where I ordered a dinner sandwich and Italian soda. David, sure enough, got his enormous hamburger. I had to admit, it did sound pretty tasty. The small restaurant reminded me of the Hole in the Wall in that it wasn’t one link in a long chain of look-alikerestaurants. But it was also more upscale than the Hole ever could or would be. Or probably even wanted to be. A woman kept rushing around to all the tables, saying hellos, making sure everything was good. She had this bright orange-dyed hair that would’ve seemed out of place anywhere else. Here she became part of the décor. Her hair matched the color of all the tabletops.
    David and I chatted lightly about work for the most part. It was easy enough. But I could feel weight underneath. Like we were skimming the surface when there was more to be had if we’d just dive down. When our food arrived, it took only a couple of minutes to notice neither one of us was eating very earnestly. David seemed nervous. Or maybe bored. Hard to tell. Either way, I wished he’d eat more so I could at least tell myself I’d paid him back.
    As his burger cooled and my sandwich warmed, David cleared his throat and said, “So, um . . . I hate to ask the obvious, but are you absolutely a hundred percent sure it was Tara the other day?”
    Good thing I already didn’t have an appetite.
    â€œWhy would you ask me that?” I said.
    David said, “Because for some stupid reason, I still want to help. I mean, if you want.”
    â€œHelp how ?” I pushed my plate away. “I’ve gotten all the professional help I could ever use.”
    David raised an eyebrow.
    Great job, Pelly, I thought. Why don’t you just hand over your medical file while you’re at it, so he can see how stupid he is for wanting to help out the local nut factory?
    â€œNever mind,” I said. I took a sip of my vanilla soda. Which was incredibly tasty, with thick cream poured in it and everything. But it didn’t help.
    So we sat for a while, with David shifting in his seat every other minute. I sat with my shoulders rolled forward, trying to tuck my chin into my throat.
    â€œSo,” David said. “This is . . . fun.”
    â€œYeah,” I said helplessly. “That’s me. Tons