Page 41 of Tony

And then Tony Dumas showed up to remind me that the new me isn’t real.

I think that’s what bothered me most about today. Rosalinda, he called me. Some weird Frankenstein’s monster person who is not who she once was, nor who she was told to be.

Tony made me feel fake.

But nothing about the past few hours at work has felt fake.

It feels… right.

It feels like I just became a Sick Boy.

CHAPTER ELEVEN - TONY

“Did you rent this place because you can see the front door of Sick Boyz from up here?”

Soshee and I are sitting at a two-seater, bar-height table looking out the window at the shop as I say this. Her loft is aglow with dozens of candles. They’ve been burning for hours and some of them have even gone out, their fuel supply exhausted.

“If I say yes, will it make me pathetic?”

“No.” I smile at her. We’re definitely a little buzzed after finishing off a second bottle of wine. That’s a total of four bottles of wine between us today. “But you might be asking the wrong guy.”

She laughs. “Right. Stalking your ex from a decade ago? Not the healthiest decision you’ve made recently.”

“Tell me about it. It’s weird, though. I don’t even like her, Sosh.”

She smiles when I use the familiar, shortened version of her name. “You have to like her some, though. Right? Or you wouldn’t be here. And that would be super unfortunate, because then we wouldn’t be friends.”

“Truth.”

“Which part?”

I shrug. I don’t want to admit that Belinda—as Rosalie, anyway—was a weakness that almost broke me. But I’m not much of a liar. “Both. I did like her. Once upon a time. Or… I’m not even sure like was the word. It was more of a…”

“An obsession?”

I point to her. “Maybe?”

“I know that feeling. So the answer to your question is yes. At first I wanted it to spy on Vann. He’s always out there on the street, either in front of the shop hanging out with his friends or random people—that guy makes friends with everyone, any time of day—or at the motorcycle shop his older sister owns with her husband.” She points to a lit-up sign that says ‘Shrike Bikes.’ “The theater owners are friends of theirs. And my family as well. That’s how I got this place. I begged and begged and begged them to rent me this loft space for half price. They only agreed because they’re going to remodel in a few months and the tenant who lived up here before me got another place and moved out early.”

“But now?”

“Hmm?”

“You said at first. At first you wanted this place so you could spy on Vann. But now? You feel different?”

She looks around, sighs. “I love this loft. It feels like home. I don’t think I’ve felt that way about an apartment before. I do enjoy the view.” She smiles down at College Avenue below. “And I still love it when I catch Vann down there. I feel like a voyeur, I guess. It’s exciting to be able to watch him and he has no idea I’m doing it.” She sighs again, heavier this time. “I’m really going to miss this place when I have to move next month and that feeling has nothing to do with Vann.” She sits up straighter. “But I’m trying to appreciate it in the now, you know? Just be thankful I get to live here at all, even if it’s just for a short period of time. So, the short answer to your question is yes and no.”

We both laugh and she goes silent for a moment. Probably thinking about all the things she just said and how it’s a little bit TMI to be saying all this to a guy she’s known for less than a day.

I get lost in people-watching for a moment. Spy that yippy white dog again, this time not wearing the green and white CSU sweater and with a different person at the end of the leash. “Yeah, I get it,” I finally say. “Not that I live in the past or anything.” I turn my attention back to Soshee. “I’m usually a pretty grounded guy. I’m not a professional stalker. I swear to God I’ve never followed an ex two thousand miles across the country just so I could secretly plot a get-over-her scheme.”

“Oh, now I really feel awkward. Because that’s something I’d totally do and I wouldn’t even feel guilty about it.”

I laugh. “Yeah, but it’s part of your charm.”

“Am I charming?”

I look at her. Study her a little more closely than I have up until now. And my conclusion is that she is more than just charming. “Soshee Ameci. You are the most interesting girl I’ve met in a very long time.”