Amanda waited, staring at the phone, willing it to ring. "He said he'd be here at eight. It's 8:30. Where is he?" She turned to her window, watching for a sign of him. Her heart leaped at the sound of a motorcycle; it was him. Amanda bounded down the stairs, smiling brightly. She'd been friends with Michael for years, and while he wasn't exactly Mr. Reliable, he pulled through when it mattered. Like now.
  "Amanda. Hi, hon! Where you going?"
  "I hear Michael's bike come up the street."
  "Judy looked at her watch. "Wasn't he supposed to be here half an hour ago?"
  "Yeah, but...."
  "Amanda..." Judy had never understood her daughter's friendship to Michael, insisting that he was too cold, too self-absorbed, and too controlling.
  "I'm sure he just had something to finish up at the shop. He's busy with work, Mom, you know that. Besides, he's here now, and that's all that matters." Amanda pulled her coat from the closet, sliding the leather over her shoulders.
  "Sweetheart..." Judy sighed. "That bike didn't stop. It went right past the house."
  "No it didn't. It was him. It had to be him. He said he'd be here." Amanda opened the front door, gazing out into the lamp lit street. Her heart sank. Mike had said he'd pick her up after work. Why wouldn't he? For the same reason he didn't last time, whatever that was, she thought sardonically. She curled up on the step, lit a cigarette, and bit her lip to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.