Make eye contact and smile, Bernard reminds himself. Then say something. Don't try to be suave, be yourself. He adjusts his new houndstooth cap in the hall mirror. It hides his bald patch. Then he hurries outside.
The bus leaves in six minutes. He prays she will be on it.
"Wanna see my tattoo?" She's perched on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs. She shows him this four-leaf clover inside her thigh. "Know why I picked that? Cause anyone who sees it just got lucky."
She won't mention what her father did to the last boy she showed it to.