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She sighs. “I don’t see how that’s any better.”
“You can be beautiful while looking like you feel like a turd. It’s a fact. Look it up.”
Clara shakes her head, eyes darting away for a moment, and I start to actually worry. If I’m not mistaken, there are tears shining in her eyes. Before I can get a good look, she flips her sunglasses over her face, blocking me out.
I sit up on the couch. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Clara faces the camera again, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking with those sunglasses on. “I’m fine, but I’ve got to go. Can’t be late for Essentials.” She gives me a grin that is absolutely one hundred percent fake.
“But didn’t that class already—” Clara’s face disappears before I can say “end.”
I stare at my phone. “That was weird, right?” I say to Sebastian.
He licks a paw, as if to say,What would I know about it?
“Trust me, that was weird.”
Sebastian continues licking himself. If Clara wanted to tell me something, she would. It’s probably just med school stress, but I don’t want to leave things like that. I pull up our chat on my phone and type out a message.
Raine
Seriously, come to Cobh. I’ll take you to the Titanic museum and buy you a beer.
Also, do you have any Raine-proof dinner recipes?
I wait for her to respond, but she doesn’t. I toss my phone onto the couch and stare up at the ceiling, suddenly uninterested in reality TV after talking with Clara. I’m unsure how to fill my time without my guitar. Maybe I’ll be mindful. I’ll stare at the ceiling and meditate. I don’t even last a minute before I’m bored out of my mind.
I sit up and spot Jack’s bookcases across the room. I’ve never seen so many books in such a small home before. I choose a random book from the top shelf. “See?” I tell Sebastian. “I can be an intellectual too.” I scan the title of the book in my hands.The Shock of the New: The Hundred-Year History of Modern Art.I hold it up for Sebastian. “Any good?”
Sebastian ignores me and keeps licking himself.
I flip to a random page and scan a paragraph. Something about art and how it uses emotion to connect us to the world. When Sebastian meows, I look up, unsure how long I’ve been standing there reading.
I tuck the book beneath my arm. Jack’s shower has a glorious bathtub, and I haven’t taken a good bath in ages. In the bathroom, I set my phone and the book on the sink. Something yellow catches my eye, and when I look at the mirror, I find a Post-it stuck there.
Jack’s handwriting is neat and clear. My handwriting is practically illegible, even to me.
Turn the hot water tap at least halfway, but no more than a quarter-turn above that or you’ll burn yourself. —J
Beneath the words is a diagram of the hot water tap. There’s a shaded area Jack has labeledthe safe zone.To the left of the safe zone he’s writtencryogenic therapy.To the right,literal Hell on Earth.I laugh, then take the Post-it from the mirror and stick it into the book.
I turn on the tap as instructed and grab my phone.
Raine
Thanks for the shower instructions. I’m not yet ready to leave the mortal plane. I’ve heard cryotherapy is great for anti-aging though.
I sit on the edge of the bathtub as it fills and continue to read the book. After a few minutes, my phone pings with a message from Jack.
Jack
It’s excellent. I’m actually 67, not 27.
I chew on my lip and type outI’ve always been into older menbut have better sense than to send it. As the tub fills, I walk out to the living room and snap a photo of Sebastian asleep on the cat perch.
Raine
You didn’t tell me he was such a party animal.
