August, 2005.

Prologue

His name should have been Jeanne-Claude or something like that. Aly could have cheated on Adam with a Jeanne-Claude for sure. That's like a once in a life time, no way this could happen in America, kind of a thing. It's like getting a tattoo while drunk. Really rash and impulsive, but altogether forgivable later on, when you think about it.

Adam wouldn't forgive her for this.

For one thing, his name was Marc, and even though it wasn't spelled normally, it was still pretty average over all. So was he, in certain ways. He smoked long cigarettes, for short periods of time -- dousing them out on Aly's window ledge before leaning out to watch the people pass below. He wrote poems and left them pinned around the loft. First at hers and then, later on, it would be his place. Theirs.

He gave her flowers and told her she was beautiful. But that was just the beginning.