You, Me and Love
I definitely need to get out more.
I use the break to go to the bathroom, where I splash water on my face. Other than dark circles under my eyes, I don’t look too horrible. My straight black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, no muss, no fuss. I have high cheekbones and dimples, like my mother, with almond-shaped eyes, a gift from my Chinese-American father. I guess I’m pretty. Even in a lab coat, my curves are obvious. Not as full as they would be if I ate regularly. But under the white fabric is a woman’s body. Enough to entice skeevy security guards. Enough to draw Santiago’s attention.
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