Elena

At that point, I had no reason to stay or even pretend that I wanted to be there, so I made my way to the lobby, avoiding the party and anyone associated with it. I was feeling enough of a buzz to distract my ability to drive, so I walked out to the curb and hailed a cab. The driver, a middle aged russian-looking man, tried to make conversation, but stopped soon after when I made it politely clear that I was not interested in small talk. My mind had a single focus, Tamara, and no one else was welcome in that private space. I liked her. I was...