”“No, I didn’t know that.”We came to the same bench I’d shared with Lisa the night before and sat down.“She says you’re going out again ...ext weekend.”I nodded. “Yeah.”“And how do you feel about that?”“She’s a nice girl.”“But?”“But...”“No spark?”I nodded. “Not like with...”She looked up at me. “I know. I’m sorry. But...”“Yeah.”We fell silent and stared out over the lake.“Don’t hurt her,” Kelly whispered. “She likes you, but she’s not like Lauren. She’s—”“I know. And I’ll try not to. Hurt her, I. Anita was telling me all about her time in Australia. She mentioned places I'd only heard of, or at best, seen on the television. She worked the stories as if she were a professional narrator for an Australian documentary, like the rancher somewhere in Northern Territories who assumed that she knew his friend in England because they lived only thirty miles apart. To him that was your next door neighbour and he couldn't comprehend the hundred thousand people who lived in those thirty miles. She. More

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