He thinks back to what Ramona said about not having anyone else to call.
The truth is, he’s been lonely too. He has his colleagues, his trivia friends, but those relationships are so tied to work that it’s hard for him to completely open up. Of course he has Lexi and Audrey, but family’s different. Then there are those long nights where he wakes up for a moment thinking he’s still back at his old house—because while he swears he’s moved on, maybe it’ll take something like this to get him the rest of the way there.
And even if he knows what she sounds like when she comes, that breathy, desperate gasp haunting his dreams—
Well. Something for his fantasies.
So he gazes back into her expectant face, radiant and hopeful, like the sun coming in through the window was meant just for her. And there’s really only one way to answer. “I could do friends,” he says, and somehow that makes her light up even more.
“Amazing. What do normal people do for fun?”
He laughs, reaching for his stack of books. “Now I’m wondering if I’m even that much of an expert.”
She nudges his arm with hers. The way a friend might. That’s something he’s going to have to get really okay with, really quickly. “If you had an evening to yourself, no grading, no family obligations…what would you do?”
“Depends on if the Clippers are playing or not.”
“Aren’t they like, really bad?”
The way he scoffs is pure defiance. She obviously isn’t wrong, but only true fans are allowed to insult them like that. “They’re notgreat,” he admits. “But there’s always that hope, you know?”
“Okay then. We’ll go to a Clippers game. You and me. I could get us courtside seats.” When he lifts his eyebrows, she dials it back. “Right. Right. We’ll sit in the nosebleeds. We’ll use binoculars. We’ll eat churros and wear those giant foam fingers.”
She’s actually serious.
With a giddy little squeal, she reaches out to hug him, but then, realizing where they are and that their new boundaries are still semi-undefined, settles for giving his shoulder an exuberant pat.
“I can’t wait,” she says. “Text me the details.”
When she leaves, he stands there in what used to be her sunbeam, now covered up by clouds.
Going to a Clippers game with Ramona Wilder.
Who just four days ago was on the desk in his office, shirt unbuttoned, body pressed to his.
Who has just declared that they’re friends.
Somehow, he feels as though he’s just made a very bad decision.
Ramona:as it turns out, people are really picky about their foam fingers
link
Nick:“Unbeknownst to me, a piece of the finger fell off while I was cheering at my son’s championship T-ball game. I didn’t realize until some of the other parents complained that it looked like I’d been flipping off the whole team. One star.”
Ramona:don’t tell me this isn’t comedy gold
15
“They couldn’t have gone fora slightly more inspired color scheme?” Ramona asks, gesturing to the cobalt blue jersey with red and white accents she ordered for the occasion.
“Say it a little louder?” Nick pretends to glance around, as though some kind of basketball police are waiting to arrest her for being a fake fan. If all goes well, by the end of tonight, she’ll be a real one.
With the jersey, a Clippers baseball cap, and red-and-blue lensless glasses, she fears she may have overdone it. At least everyone’s so immersed in their own worlds, hyped on pregame adrenaline as they stream through the doors, that no one gives her a second glance, but she’s still too anxious to take off the prop glasses. “If you can believe it,” she said when they met outside the arena, “these were rated five out of five for celebrity disguises.”
Nick, for his part, is in aGo ClipsT-shirt and vintage jacket he tells her he found on eBay a couple years ago, because he really wasn’t kidding about being a huge fan. With faded jeans and New Balances, this is casual Nick. Weekend Nick.
Unfortunately, Weekend Nick might be her favorite versionof him so far, with an easygoing comfort that makes him seem like the human equivalent of a favorite sweater. Now she’s certain that peppermint scent comes from his shampoo, while his soap or cologne must be cedar—when they were in his office, she couldn’t get enough of it.
