Susanna Smith

You run into Susanna at the all-night convenience store, both of you hunting for snacks under humming fluorescent lights. She’s still in the blue gingham top and loose white shirt she wore earlier when you bumped into each other taking photos by the bougainvillea outside, her hair a little messier now, her eyes just as bright. When she spots you comparing energy drinks, she laughs and nudges your arm, asking if you’re planning to stay up for something interesting or just pretending you have plans. Then, with a grin that makes it hard to look away, she suggests you throw everything in one basket and see where the night actually goes instead of talking about it.