“Sorry! God, sorry.”
She swore, tugged her headphones down around her neck. “You made me jump.”
It was past midnight, subzero. She was wearing only a T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, the flimsiest of cardigans.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to... see anyone.”
I’d come across her a couple of times before at breakfast (quietly begging for coffee, wondering out loud where the croissants were). Once at meditation. Twice in yoga, where she caught my eye as we were semi-inverted and we both struggled not to laugh.
“So what are you in for?” I asked.
She leaned against the brick wall we’d collided at the end of. “A multitude of sins.”
I smiled. “Sounds serious.”
“So I’m told.” She checked them off on her fingers. “Not getting my five-a-day. A fairly serious caffeine habit. Reaching my thirties with absolutely zero knowledge of yoga, which I’m led to believe is a crime these days. You?”
I took her in. Blond hair that skimmed her shoulders, powder-blue eyes. Lips patched indigo by the cold. “Ah, I kind of... promised someone I’d come here. So.”
She smiled, didn’t press me. “I’m Rose, by the way.”
“Joel.”
Firm handshake, full eye contact.
“So, Joel. Are you... just getting some fresh air?”
“Actually, I’ve been fighting the urge to go on a massive bender. You?”
She laughed again, gestured to her headphones. “Can’t sleep, so... affirmations.”
I smiled, thought back to the early days of trying to free myself from dreaming. Decided not to share with her my repeated lack of success.
Turned out she didn’t need me to.
“It’s all slightly odd, though, isn’t it?” she said. “Declaring how much I love myself ad infinitum. It actually has the opposite effect, if I listen to it for long enough.”
I laughed. “Yeah, it goes against the grain a bit.”
She brushed the air with her hand. “Ah, they probably won’t make you do it. Compared to most people here, you look the picture of health.”
I was caught off-guard by the compliment.
“Just to say—fully aware I look the exactoppositeof health right now. Death. I look like death. And not even warmed up because I’ve literally never been this cold.” She raised her eyes to the sky, teeth chattering softly. “Misjudged it.”
I smiled. “Funny, I was about to ask.” I took off my coat then, put it around her shoulders. “Here. Don’t want to see those mantras going to waste.”
She stared at me. Let out a little shiver as I pulled the lapels together for her. They drew her hair in with the collar, made a ribbon down her face.
“Night, Rose. It was really nice meeting you.”
I walked away from her through the garden, soaked up the stillness of the night. Hoped that some of it might filter in, settle inside my mind.
83.
Callie—three years after
We’ve been in Florida—another of Ricardo’s recommendations—for a fortnight, exploring the wetlands and nature reserves, swimming off white-sand beaches, hanging out with people we’ve met along the way. I’ve lost track of how many conversations Finn’s struck up while we’ve been here, this man for whom charisma is instinct. He still makes actual new friends when he goes on holiday, something I pretty much lost the knack for as soon as I hit puberty.
