“Oh,” Ramona said, her face warming. “Well. I don’t know. We just…”
“And you went to RISD.”
Ramona’s eyes widened. “Yes, I did. Though I didn’t graduate.”
“Your medium?”
“Apparel design,” Ramona said.
One corner of Noelle’s mouth turned up. “I thought so.”
Ramona smiled, and then the bathroom door opened, Dylan stepping out looking perfect in the striped dress.
“What do we think?” Dylan said, smoothing her hands down the skirt.
“We think your girlfriend is a little genius,” Noelle said.
Dylan’s eyes popped, flew to Ramona, who could only stare back.
“She’s not…” Dylan said. “Well, she is a genius, but we’re—”
“Yes, yes, you can have your little DTR talk later,” Noelle said,walking over to Dylan and tugging on the dress here and there. “What I need right now is an assistant.”
Silence.
Dylan stood stock-still as Noelle plucked at her, and Ramona wasn’t sure what to say. Still, Ramona’s heart was full-on galloping in her chest, which was understandable considering how much the wordgirlfriendwas flying around. She and Dylan hadn’t used the word, and they had always said from the start that this was just summer fun.
And itwas.
But if it was so much fun, Ramona didn’t think the wordgirlfriendshould feel so terrifying.
And so…right.
Autumn was nearing—Olive would be leaving soon, the movie wrapping—and Ramona didn’t want to look too closely at any of it.
Couldn’t.
“So?” Noelle said, eyes flicking to Ramona. “What do you say?”
Ramona blinked. “Say?”
“I need an assistant for the rest of filming,” Noelle said, pulling out a needle and thread from the apron around her waist. “You’re smart. Your instincts are good. The studio was going to send someone over from LA, but I’d prefer to have a say. Pay is shit and the hours are long, but you can’t beat the experience.”
Ramona felt all the color drain from her face. She felt dizzy. Had to grab on to the corner of the armchair by the window so she didn’t fall over. She glanced at Dylan, who was simply watching her with an expression Ramona couldn’t quite parse—half-curious, half…wary? No. Just surprised.
Because that’s all Ramona could think of right now—shock. Awe. Wonder. Pure impossibility.
“I’m sorry?” she said.
Noelle smiled. “You heard me.” She slid the needle throughsomething at the back of Dylan’s dress. “But if you’ve got a job that keeps you from committing, or—”
“Yes,” Ramona said.
Loudly.
Nearly yelled it.
Noelle barely blinked. “Perfect. We’ll go over the details later, but for now, go tell Gia we need five minutes. She won’t stop texting me, and I’m about to throw my phone into the lake.”
