FUZZY

It was Clementine’s uncontrollable laughter that killed him.

The peals that would ramp up when something struck her as truly hilarious, leaving her gasping for air. When Will made Clementine laugh—and not just the cute chortle she let out for something that was merely amusing—he felt whole.

Her laughter echoed in his mind as he looked out the window of the Greyhound bus. Will scrunched his eyes shut and retreated into the past.

The first time he saw her, Clementine and her best friend Liv were wedged into a recliner at a house party, both reeling, gasping, baring teeth. Their high-pitched squeals cut across the room, punctuated by little calls of “wait, wait, wait.” It might have been “wait” while we catch our breath, but it felt more like a “wait” to time and space. Stop everything and cast this moment in amber.

Liv was sitting on top with her legs draped across Clementine’s lap. They were both wearing massively baggy faded blue jeans and identical Etnies, making it difficult to tell whose skinny legs were whose under all the piled-up denim.

Clementine surveyed the room with a smirk and sharp, adventurous green eyes, taking small but frequent sips from her forty of Mickey’s. Those eyes flashed and she jabbed Liv lightly in the ribs. Liv was also taking inventory, though she wore more of a scowl—the kind you wanted to unseat. Clementine whispered something into her ear and a broad smile broke out across Liv’s face. She moved one hand to cover it.