She ends the meeting with a concern wrapped in her fear of technology: “And…you’re sure you’re keeping safe? A lot of scary people on the internet these days…”
He assures her that he is. His address isn’t listed anywhere publicly, and while his office is, either he feels safe in his ignorance of what other people are capable of, or none of Ramona’s superfans care enough to confront him in person—though it’s admittedly a frightening thought.
So he gets off with a warning. He probably deserves worse.
And yet there’s some fury there, too. The fact that Ramona can’t leave her house without it being newsworthy. The fact thatsomeone secretly took those photos without either of them realizing. It feels so insidious, makes him a little sick, and he cannot believe she’s lived with this for most of her life.
He feels about two feet tall when he leaves Eckhart’s office.
Maybe he’s too paranoid now, but whispers seem to follow him around the building. Hushed conversations and averted glances. He hears Ramona’s name on his colleagues’ lips, and every time, something deep inside of him clenches.
He goes to grab a coffee before class, hoping the caffeine will clear his head.
We have to keep our distance for a while, he texts Ramona while waiting in line at the nearest on-campus café, confirming what they talked about at the open house, hating himself for doing it.I’m so sorry.
Next quarter shouldn’t feel that far away, now that it’s early November. Finals are in a month. If Ramona’s checking the student portal regularly, she should be able to see that her grade has significantly improved. He hopes she’s proud of herself.
I feel normal around you,she said that day in the library. He feels some of that too, the thing he’s been secretly craving for the past year. He’slikedwhatever it is they’ve been doing, even before it turned physical again for those too-brief, perfect moments.
Now she’s officially capitalFForbidden.
Ramona:I get it.
I’m not sure if I could live with myself if I jeopardized your job.
The idea of her feeling like shit about this when it’s someother idiot’s fault she can’t go outside without it being a headline absolutely kills him.
He types, deletes. Types. Deletes. She sounds too rational about it. What, did he think she’d be crying over the fact that they need to stop spending time together? This wasn’t ever anything real.
The barista calls out his name and he goes to pick up his latte, making eye contact with a thirtyish woman grabbing her own coffee.
“Nick Navarro?” she asks, and unease works its way up his spine. “Believe it or not, you’re exactly the person I’m looking for.”
“Sounds…ominous.”
She flashes him a broad smile. In jeans and a zip-up vest, she could easily pass for someone on the UCLA staff. “Doesn’t have to be. Jenni Grant. I write forUs Weekly.” The smile doesn’t fade as she looks him over, and he gets the distinct feeling he’s being sized up. For what, he’s not sure.
A reporter. A reporter found him here, at his place of work.
The café isn’t nearly empty enough for this conversation. He gestures to the hall, and she follows him there, all while the coffee cup burns his hand because he forgot to get one of those sleeves.
“I’d love to know more about your relationship with Ramona Wilder,” Jenni says once they’re outside. “If there’s anything you’re comfortable sharing.”
He has no idea what to say. Never had any kind of training for this.No comment—is that what you’re supposed to say when you want them to leave you alone?
But something aboutno commentsounds guilty, like he has something to hide. Which he does.
Instead, he goes with a version of the truth. “She’s in one of my classes.”
“How’s she doing? Straight-A student?”
“I don’t discuss grades with non-faculty. That’s a matter of privacy for the university.”
“So there’s something private going on?”
Nick needs to get out of this. Obviously Jenni doesn’t know any of the real details, but on top of everything, it’s like she’s twisting the knife—because he and Ramona can’t have any kind of relationship anymore. “I wouldn’t discuss performance foranyof my students.” He makes the mistake of sipping his too-hot coffee. Winces. “Look, I don’t appreciate being accosted like this at work, and—”
“You must know her a little bit, if you’re going to basketball games together,” Jenni presses. “Do you know if she has plans to return to music? Or to acting, even?”
