She looks at him a long time, as he wipes at it. From all the broken glass. She is very close.
Cary, muttering: "I don't like you being in my head."
Kalinda, closer: "What?"
Cary: "I said, I don't like you being in my head."
She tells him to get her out; he touches her face. They kiss at the same time, lean in at the same time. You ask me, this is real. Tonight they almost died, and he was in the middle of begging her to let him go, so tonight it is real. She pulls back once and he looks sad and hungry, so she kisses him again.
Cary: "What are we doing?"
Kalinda, honestly: "I have no idea."
Both, she means both. But for Cary, Kalinda will always be both, in his head all the time, and that's the thing he loves and also the thing that makes him so angry. So he leaves.
If somebody knew which it was, it would be Kalinda, but she's the last person you could ask. And she would never say. But the truth is that she wouldn't know either.
She'd have no idea.
JACOB CLIFTON is a freelance writer and critic based in Austin, Texas. He currently recaps Gossip Girl, The Good Wife, Pretty Little Liars and True Blood for TWoP. Jacob can be found online at jacobclifton.com, on Twitter, and on Facebook. IRL work appears in BenBella's SmartPop series of anthologies, most recently A Friday Night Lights Companion and Fringe Science.













Comments