An Anonymous Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

that world soon enough.
    I reach for my phone and text Lizzie:
Can we meet a little earlier?
    I walk into the Lounge and scan the room, but Lizzie isn’t there yet. I’m not surprised; I’m ten minutes early. I see a pair of empty barstools and snag them.
    Sanjay, the bartender, nods atme. “Hey, Jess.” I come here often; it’s three blocks away from my apartment, and happy-hour beers cost only three dollars.
    “Sam Adams?” he asks.
    I shake my head. “Vodka-cran-soda, please.” Happy-hour prices ended nearly an hour ago.
    I’m halfway through my drink when Lizzie arrives, peeling of her scarf and jacket as she approaches. I pull my bag of the stool next to me.
    “I hadthe weirdest thing happen today,” Lizzie says as she plops down and gives me a quick, hard hug. She looks like a Midwestern farm girl, all pink cheeks and tumbling blond hair, which is exactly what she was before she came to New York to try to break into theatrical costume design.
    “To you? No way,” I say. The last time I talked to Lizzie, she told me she’d tried to buy a homeless guy a turkeysandwich and he’d expressed annoyance that she didn’t know he was a vegan. A few weeks earlier, she’d asked someone to help her find the aisle with bath towels at Target. It turned out to be Oscar-nominated actress Michelle Williams, not an employee. “She knew where they were, though,” Lizzie said when she’d recounted the story.
    “I was in Washington Square Park—Wait, are you drinking a vodka-cran-soda?I’ll have one too, Sanjay, and how’s that hot boyfriend of yours? Anyway, Jess, where was I? Oh, the bunny. It was just right there in the middle of the path, blinking up at me.”
    “A bunny? Like Thumper?”
    Lizzie nods. “He’s precious! He’s got these long ears and the tiniest pink nose. I think someone must have lost him. He’s totally tame.”
    “He’s in your apartment right now, isn’t he?”

    “Only because it’s so cold out!” Lizzie says. “I’m going to call around to all the local schools on Monday to see if any of them wants a classroom pet.”
    Sanjay slides Lizzie’s drink over and she takes a sip. “What about you? Anything interesting?”
    For once, I had a day that could rival hers, but when I start to speak, the words on the laptop screen float before my eyes:
By enteringthis study, you are agreeing to be bound by confidentiality.
    “Just the usual,” I say, looking down as I stir my drink. Then I dig into my bag for a few quarters and jump up. “I’m going to pick out some tunes. Any requests?”
    “Rolling Stones,” she says.
    I punch in “Honky Tonk Women” for Lizzie, then I lean against the jukebox, flipping through the choices.
    Lizzie and I met shortlyafter I moved here, when we both worked backstage at the same of-of-Broadway play, me as a makeup artist and her as part of the costume crew. The production closed after two nights, but by then we’d become friends. I’m closer to her than just about anyone. I went home with her for a long weekend and met her family, and she hung out with my parents and Becky when they visited New York a few yearsago. She always gives me the pickle from her plate when we eat at our favorite deli because she knows how much I love them, just as I know that when a new Karin Slaughter book comes out she won’t leave her apartment until she’s finished it.
    Although she certainly doesn’t know everything about me, it still feels strange to not be able to share today’s experience with her.
    A guy approachesand stands next to me, looking down at the song titles.
    Lizzie’s song begins to play.
    “Stones fan, huh?”
    I turn to look at him. He’s a B-school grad for sure, I think. I see his type every day on the subway. He’s got the Wall Street vibe, with his crewneck sweater and jeans that are a bit too crisp. His dark hair is short, and his stubble looks more like genuine five o’clock shadowthan some sort of facial hair artistic expression. His