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Summary
Finally, she’s able to get the number in right. The ring is sharp against her ear. Pick the fuck up, she thinks, and someone must be listening, because the ringing stops.
“All right, Harrington, what’s on this week’s nightmare menu? And don’t tell me the one about drowning in your pool again, man, we all know that’s rich kid—”
“It’s Nancy.”
A long pause, then a laugh. “Wheeler? To what do I owe this late-night honor?”
“I, um.” Nancy’s tongue feels stuck to the inside of her mouth, like bare skin on upholstery. “I was wondering if you’ve got a couch I can crash on?”
Nancy finds herself in Olympia, Washington on the eve of the Riot Grrrl movement.