The main problem with our situation was plane ticket prices. 
 See, like most wannabe indie girls, I had always wanted to travel after college. Live in summertime for a couple years, write a poem in every continent, cheesy stuff like that. I wanted to meet all kinds of different people. I wanted to visit cat cafes, which New York was severely lacking. I guess… I guess I also wanted to see just how far the strange godly bond between my ex-girlfriend and I could stretch. Maybe if I moved across the ocean, I told myself, then I wouldn’t have this problem anymore.
 As it turned out, the godly bond stretched at least from New York to Spain. It also stretched from New York to Israel, and to Panama, and to Shanghai. No matter where I went, whenever my ex needed me (the definition of need was definitely subjective here), I would be godly transported right to her side. Aphrodite doesn’t play around, not even if you were only 15 and mostly joking when you told her you’d always be there when she was in trouble.
 Anyways, I’m getting off track. The plane tickets. The plane tickets were what really made the whole thing hell, because although Aphrodite had the goodness in her heart to teleport me places, she never quite found the time to teleport me back. And although Addie always offered to split the ticket price, I never took her up on it. Would’ve felt like stealing. After all, it was my dumb ass who got us into this mess.
 Italy was something new. After a couple weeks in Egypt I figured I’d turn back to Eastern Europe. I’d taken a red-eye, rented a car and driven to the motel I’d rented in Florence. Just as I finished unpacking my suitcase, I felt the first tugging sensations in my stomach. God damn it.
 I scrambled to grab a hold of my Epi-Pen and my phone. Generally, everything that was touching my skin got transported along with me, wherever I was going. Back in college, we’d tried to use it to smuggle drugs but I guess Aphrodite didn’t approve of that sort of thing. 
 The room spun. I squeezed my eyes shut, crouching, bending my head down until my forehead pressed against my knees. Don’t throw up, I told myself. Don’t throw up.
 If you’ve ever been teleported by a goddess, then you know how the middle part feels. If you haven’t, there isn’t much use trying to explain it to you.
 When I opened my eyes, I was standing on the edge of a highway. Black asphalt bled into a stretch of grass dotted with wildflowers. Beyond that I could see a forest. It was spring, a 60 degree day, and my stomach was about ready to reject everything I’d eaten in the past 24 hours.
 “I was just thinking about you,” a voice called. 
 I turned around.
 Addie was sitting crisscrossed on the trunk of her silver Mini Cooper, cheerful as ever. She wore a pair of faded overalls and scuffed up sneakers. I hadn’t seen her in a couple weeks, but she looked healthy, brown skin almost glowing in the sunlight.
 Of course we met like this. Her, looking like some kind of goddess, and me, fresh off a two hour car ride preceded by a three hour flight preceded by five hours of delays at the airport. “Hi,” I said, waving my hand with the Epi-Pen. “Car troubles?”
 Addie nodded. “Did I wake you up?” Her eyebrows scrunched together in concern.
 I shook my head, rubbing at my eyes a little. “Another ten minutes and you might have, though,” I said.
 “I’m sorry, Zoey.”
 “Don’t worry about it. You know, at least you didn’t catch me on the plane. Again.”
 Addie laughed. Her laugh was best when you caught her off guard. “Yeah, yeah. Fix my car, Miss Mechanic.”
 I had to pop the hood of the car, then, before I did something stupid. 
 I mean, it wasn’t like we were out of the question or anything. We’d dated for a couple weeks in tenth grade, unanimously decided that we weren’t quite ready to come out to any parents yet and put the whole thing on hold. Of course, then we’d gone off to different colleges and Addie had gotten a new girlfriend and that was the end of that. The only reason my weak romantic heart still held out hope was because after ten years and two other girlfriends, I’d been the only one to stay.
 My staying might have been entirely the fault of some vicarious goddess, but the point still stood.
 “You awake down there?” Addie called, from the driver’s seat.
 I snapped to awareness. “I cleaned your spark plugs,” I told her. “Try starting it now.”
 She pressed the key into the ignition, and the car hummed to life. “You are a goddess,” she cheered.
 “You must be thinking of the crazy one up there,” I said, pointing up towards the sky.
 Addie leaned out of the car window. She smiled at me, a slow, sweet thing. It made her look fifteen again. “If you have time, I’ve just downloaded all of Firefly onto my computer.”
 I swallowed. “Thank you, but I should probably be heading back to Italy.” I couldn’t manage to meet her eyes.
 “Zoey,” Addie said.
 I looked at her, really looked at her. She was making her puppy dog face, the one she used to use in middle school to get me to bake cookies with her, or to let her braid my hair. I’d gotten much better at refusing her these days, but the fact that she wanted me with her badly enough to use it? Well, maybe there was hope for my weak romantic heart yet. 
 “I have one condition,” I said. “No country music.”
 Addie grinned. “Fine, you big buzzkill.”
 So I got in the passenger seat of her silver Mini, car grease and fuzzy pajama pants and all. There was a moment of silence before Addie turned on the radio, and maybe I was imagining things but I’m pretty sure that somewhere very high up, a vicarious old lady was godly laughing.