"Does it make you feel like an Alanis Morissette song?"

Her brow furrows. "Who?"

Shaking my head, I stroll toward her. "Never mind. Sometimes I forget how young you are."

Her eyes meet mine once more. "I'm not young. You're just old."

"Huh." I pause right in front of her. "I remember once, not long ago, you were adamant I wasn't old. But then again, that's the same night you told me to stay, and you've been pretty vocal about how you regret that. Guess I shouldn't be surprise if you take back everything you've said."

She holds my gaze for a few seconds before closing her eyes and looking away. I don't linger, shuffling past her on my way to the den. I'm exhausted, and frustrated, wanting nothing more than to collapse in my bed and sleep for days on end, but there's still too much to do.

I've wasted enough time being unconscious.

I'm sitting at my desk, on the phone with American Express when Karissa appears. I expect her to take a seat on the couch, to turn on the television and do whatever it is she does, but she surprises me by approaching my desk instead. She perches herself on the corner of it while I lean back in the chair.

"I need to cancel my card and order a new one," I tell the person on the phone. "I also need to know if it's been used recently."

The lady gives me the usual spiel about timeframes and security as she looks up my history. Last swiped at a gas station north of the city limits the night it was stolen. Huh.

I hang up once it's settled and continue to watch Karissa as she stares out the vast window behind me. She's switching up her routine because of me, but not much has really changed. Not really. I don't want her to feel like a prisoner, but it's obvious she feels trapped.

She even said so herself.

"I have something for you," I say.

"I don't—"

"Want anything from me," I say, finishing her thought. "You don't want anything from me, I get it."

"Actually, I was going to say I didn't need anything."

"Well, good, because I think you'll want this."

Opening my top desk drawer, I pull out the receipt from NYU and hold it out to her. She takes it, slowly unfolding it as I close the drawer again. Her gaze goes to the receipt as she clutches onto it tightly. Her eyes flit across the paper as she reads. "You paid my tuition?"

"I did."

"But how did you know? I mean, how did you…?" She trails off, shaking her head. "Never mind, what don't you know when it comes to me."

Not much, I think, but I'll learn the rest eventually.

"You didn't have to do this," she continues, looking at me as she folds the receipt back up. "I wasn't going to ask you to do it."

"I know," I say. "But you risked a lot to come to NYU, so if school's important to you, you should keep going."

She seems at a loss for words, her mouth opening and closing a few times. After a few failed attempts at a response, she simply looks away, temporarily giving up on attempting conversation.

I know she's grateful, even if she doesn't say it.

Sighing, I shove my chair back and stand up again, swaying a bit. I grasp the desk beside her and close my eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady myself. When I reopen my eyes, I see she's watching me, but I don't linger. I don't need her to worry.

I walk out of the den without another word.

I go upstairs to shower, standing under the frigid cold spray and hoping it'll jolt me awake, before heading into the bedroom to change. I'm dazed as I absent-mindedly pull on another one of my suits, only vaguely having to pay attention as I knot the dark tie. I sit down on the edge of the bed with my shoes when I glance toward the doorway, Karissa appearing yet again. She hesitates in front of me, leaning against the doorframe.

She still has something to say.

I think she finally found the words.

"You didn't go to sleep last night."

I cut my eyes at her. "I'm surprised you noticed."

"I always notice."

"Then I'm surprised you care."

"I always care, too."

"Yeah, maybe you do," I mutter, slipping on my shoes before letting out a light laugh. "Sometimes you care because you don't want me there."

She doesn't argue that, sighing dramatically when I carefully stand up again to grab my coat. "Are you going somewhere? Again?"

"I have to go sort out things with my car," I say. "I also need to get a new driver's license and deal with whatever else was in my wallet."

"It can't wait?"

"No," I say. "It can't."

"So you're going to be gone a while?"

The question makes me eye her peculiarly as I put on my coat. "Maybe."

"Oh."

"Planning to throw a party in my absence?"

Planning to run as soon as I'm not here?

"Of course not," she says quietly. "I just thought, you know, maybe I could go with you."

My fingers stall as I'm fastening the buttons. "You want to go with me?"

"If you don't mind… unless you're doing something, well, you know…"

"Illegal?" I guess, shaking my head when she nods in confirmation. "It'll all be boring and above board. No skirting any gray areas today, jailbird. Scouts honor."