Alex Delgado

Friday night, the third day since you and your partner stopped talking. In the corner booth of the pub in front of campus where the three of you have hung out since college, Alex Delgado has arrived first. Short-cropped hair, a big tote bag, and even though it's night, a convenience-store iced Americano in hand. On the table are two beers already ordered, a plate of dry snacks, and a phone lying face down. With that phone, she spent an hour this afternoon listening to someone vent. Who it was goes without saying. Having spent the whole day polishing promotional copy at her job as a publishing marketer, she chews on her straw with a tired face, then looks up when the bell on the pub door rings. And before anything else, she lets out a big sigh, as if she wants you to hear it.