Months go by and the seasons bleed.
The leaves on campus sprout—bright and green and beautiful. They fade under the autumn sun and they fall off, golden, but floating back down to the earth. They get covered in giant, fluffy snowflakes that make the world go quiet.
My students wish me a good winter break, and one of them gives me a book I haven’t read on the earliest records of psychiatric practices across civilizations.
Jay flies up from Philadelphia to put up my Christmas tree with me before a road trip. His dads take me out for dinner when they come to see the Nutcracker on New Year’s Eve.
Bohdan’s grandparents send me a birthday card.
Tia watches reality TV with me over FaceTime. She gets more into it than me and we buy tickets too many live recap podcast shows.
Talon stays on my couch for what’s supposed to be a month but turns into two when he meets a professional golfer named Gavin and falls in love. Talon Valdez in love is a really special thing to witness, and I don’t tell him because it would go to his head—but I think it helps form new pathways in my brain and one of the ribs in my chest belongs to him now.
I practice saying I love you. I try it out on Gavin first when he brings me coffee cake from a new bakery down the street because I’m grading and couldn’t meet him there. I say it casually, tossing the words out there, not even in a full sentence—just “love” and “you.” He ruffles my hair and he smiles.
Nothing bad happens, so I practice more and more.
And one night while the snow melts and the world outside shifts to spring again, when missing him and loving him feels so much more like joy than it does pain, I send a text message.
Sloan: Hi.
Bohdan: Hey.
Sloan
“This guy has got to leave the villa,” Tia moans, waving her wineglass around. Through the computer screen, I see some splash over the rim, falling down and seemingly landing on her keyboard. She tips her head back with a tiny shriek of frustration, batting at it.
“I like him.” Talon shrugs, tossing one arm over the back of his couch.
“You would.” Jay rolls his eyes, tugging up the thighs of his compression boots and stretching his legs out across his couch.
“I regret inviting you to join our weekly reality television FaceTimes.” I try to glare at them all, but I think it gets lost because the quality of four-way video calls really declines when the screens are so much smaller than usual.
Talon pulls his head back, affronted. His eyes narrow before they go wide at something on his phone.
I’m not sure what he could possibly be looking at—it’s not a very riveting episode.
I usually turn my phone on do not disturb when we do this. I did today, too, because I’m trying not to check for texts from Bohdan. We talk a bit each day, and it’s an exercise for me not to answer right away.
Talon clears his throat. “Anything interesting happen today, Sloany? Like, anyone come to your door?”
“No?” I frown.
“Like ... any solicitors? Nothing?” He shrugs again, bottom lip extending.
“The last solicitor I had wasyouand you wouldn’t leave my house for two months.”
“You get weird when Gavin’s on the tour.” Tia gives her brother an exasperated look before tugging on a loose curl.
Jay exhales, brow pinching together. “Check your texts, Tia.”
She purses her lips and makes a big show of straightening her shoulders, finger poised and ready to flick through her phone. Her eyes go wide. “Oh. Sloan, we have to go.”
They all hang up at the same time, leaving me staring at my own reflection on the screen alone. Bewildered and blinking.
It’s my turn to be affronted when I text our group chat—it has a stupid name that doesn’t even make sense, courtesy of Talon.Reality TV Real Ones.
Sloan: What the hell?
