He doesn’t point out that she loves every song, or that it’s a recording and she can start and stop as she pleases.
“Mom says you’re looking at apartments?” Audrey asks after the song ends.
“I started to,” he says. “Haven’t found anything good yet. Mostly because none of them come with a thirteen-year-old personal chef.”
“The child labor laws in this country are way too strict.”
Eventually his sister comes downstairs and asks if Audrey wants to go grocery shopping, and she brightens and scampers out the door with her mother. Nick stares at the blank TV screen, eventually giving in to the urge to text Ramona. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t—but he justifies it with the fact that it’s purely topical.
Nick:My niece was just watching one of your concerts. Silhouettes. I caught a little of it.
I know it was filmed years ago, but it felt weird watching you without telling you.
So…this is me telling you.
He runs a hand down his unshaven face with a groan, certain he could not be less cool even if he tried.
A few minutes later, his phone blinks with a response.
Ramona:how was I?
Nick:I believe People gave you a 10/10.
Even after the bit of research he did online, this concert looked different from the one he went to with Audrey. Sometimes the camera caught a bit of sadness on her face, a split second in between songs when the mask would slip.
Ramona:that tour was rough
I wasn’t hitting my choreo most nights, andmy mom had me on this horrible diet with her that completely fucked up my stomach. after the show, I’d spend the rest of the night on the toilet
sorry, maybe that’s tmi. you probably don’t want to hear about all that drama
It’s not drama,he wants to say. It’s her life. The way he aches, imagining her in those positions where she didn’t feel like she had control.
Nick:You don’t have to censor your life for me. That sounds miserable. I’m so sorry you went through it.
Ramona:thanks. at least it’s over.
He stares down at his phone. Types,I miss you.
Then he shakes his head and deletes it. He saw her at the apartment viewing less than a week ago. It can’t be possible, can it, to miss someone after that little time?
How is he supposed to process the fact that the more he gets to know her, the more he likes? The more he feels drawn to her, despite every cell in his body urging him to move on?
Nick:Think you’ll be back in class Monday?
Ramona:well…I have a temperature of 102 and it only seems to be climbing so
Nick:Something is definitely going around. I had absences in all my classes this week.
Are you taking anything for it?
Ramona:the only meds I had were expired. but I can probably doordash some
He’s not sure why seeing this makes his chest hurt. He drums fingertips on his chin, picturing her in the snapshots of her house she’s shown him. Alone and completely hollowed out, loopy with fever. He shouldn’t be this heartsick over the idea of Ramona with the flu—and yet.
There has to be a boundary between them now, but this is different. He’d be soulless if he didn’t do something.
Or maybe he’s never been capable of rational thought when Ramona is involved.
