Already she's starting to feel like one of those things that happens to someone else, though there's a satisfied weariness in my limbs that says otherwise. I'm tempted just to stay here for the night. It's not like anyone would care or I have a real home to get back to. And it'd probably be less awkward than walking back toward the hut I'm staying in, ending up keeping her company part of the way.

Which is when I remember I don't even know where she lives.

I fasten my belt, watching her, not sure how to reply to that, not even sure for a moment why she'd thank me. For the sex? For helping her dress again? Neither seems worth much, not from her end. "You're welcome," I tell her, stilted, unsure. What I really mean is she's the one who should be getting thanked, but it doesn't make it out of my throat. "Do you... want me to walk you home?" It feels awkward. I wish I could tell her that's not her fault. Sometimes it feels like Callie never went home, or like she never left it. She appeared to me like a dream and went away again, fading into the air like a spirit, and I don't know what the protocol is or how much I care to follow it.