Donna's voice is husky with controlled hysteria and fear, but when she's said her piece to me I know why. Simon Donovan is dead- shot. I can hear my voice, my trademark deadpan delivery passing the news, and suddenly Josh is there, as close to me as I could want, but for all the wrong reasons.

I don't bother to listen to them talk; I know what's going to happen. It's always going to be like this between us: crisis snatching at what little time we have together. Crises, gunshots and political expediency. Times when it won't matter how long we've been together, only that we weren't together *then* and someone else- four someone else's- were. I don't know how to make it *not* matter, and not sure I care enough to learn.

I'm not surprised when he leaves. Guys like him always leave girls like me, unless we find a way to leave them first. Guys like Josh... They need to be needed, to be the hero, to be 'da man'. To win. And girls like me, well, we like to win too. Compromise is a dirty word, and the only thing that matters is ending up on top.