“Waving at the driver, I pile into the back seat of the vehicle. I give the driver the address, and he puts the car in gear and heads toward the freeway. I double-check the address Eliza scribbled down on a piece of paper. At the restaurant the other night, she told me that if I wanted to engage in further discussion about trying out for the Core, I should meet her at this address. “When?” I asked. “Whenever,” she replied. “How about tomorrow morning?” I said. “I always work the ...night shift.” “I don’t get out of bed until noon.” “I don’t have a shift this weekend …” “Sunday, then,” she said. “But it’ll have to be around five in the afternoon. I get outta bed late on the weekends too.” When she handed me the paper with the address, I said, “Really? Bixby Gardens?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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