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Here they call her Marisol instead of Flaca and it feels so wrong even though Maritza knows very well that this was the name her mother gave her and that everyone used to refer to Flaca before she ended up in Lichfield.
The flat is reasonably big but Flaca has to share it with five other people. Roommates who think it's cool and subversive that she went to prison, but who look at her a little strangely when she says that the friend she had just brought over for the night was someone she met there.
"Your roomates are dickheads." Maritza comments when they are finally alone.
"Yeah, but the same can be said for most people."
"Are you talking about me?"
"No. I'm talking about everyone in the world except you." Flaca says, her fingers playing with Maritza's long black hair.
She loved it when she did that, and she missed her fingers more than she knew before that moment.
"Thanks."
"So what do you want to do with your first night back to the states?"
"I had planned to go out dancing, but now I just want to sit here and look at your stupid face."
"So you've missed me?"
"You know I have."
"Good."
And because she was feeling brave, Maritza kissed her best friend. Slowly at first, then hungrily when Flaca started kissing her back.
It wasn't the first time, but it was the start of something new anyway.
It felt like a long awaited happy ending.