“So, why’d you break up with him then? Did he do something?”
“Ma.” Sal paled and marched over.
Janice waved her acrylic nails, then lightly dragged them down his chest, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. “No, he’s great. We're just not meant to be. Did you know he built me a dream house in this virtual reality thing?"
“Oh, I’d love to see.” Marie wiped her hands on her apron.
Sal flicked his chin fuzz, his face flush. “That’s not necessary.”
“Show me.” His mom gestured to his handheld game. “We all want to see.”
“Don’t be shy,” the chorus cheered.
Shit, shit, shit.If he went in, he wasn’t going to find Janice's dream house. And there was only going to be one explanation for where it went.
I tried torun out, but there were too many people, so I bounced around different pockets of space like I was in a human pinball machine.
They were all crowding over, pushing me towards him.
My heart raced. There was no escape. Not unless I stiff-armed my way through his relatives. That’d definitely make an impression.
He sighed and logged in, Janice tittering about fairy lights, her mom's pie, and the ePhone15. Too bad she left out how she dumped him because this virtual world wasn't expensive enough for her tastes.
Uncle Paulie tapped my leg with his cane, making way for me, and I almost jumped out of my skin.
“See, I told you, he’s a sweet kid,” he said. "I had to call him the other week to help me after I fell. This leg, eh? He left his friend's house right away. He's reliable, that kid."
“I believe you, but I really ought to leave.” I reached for my absent hat, then pushed my hair aside instead.
“You didn’t even eat.” He drew back and waved one of his sausage fingers at me. “Ah, I see. You’re sweet on sweet Sally.”
Heat radiated through my body. “I’m–”
“Wait, what the hell is this?” Janice asked.
“I don’t know. I put up the wall, but…” Sal frowned at the screen.
Oh my god, did I misread everything? Was this a total invasion of privacy to mess with his server again? A fever wracked my body at the thought of facing him again.
“This isn’t…? Oh, Sal.” Marie gasped and covered her mouth.
I braced myself for screaming. Outrage. Judgment.
Instead, people laughed with wonder. “Look at that.”
“It’s Grandpa’s workshop,” Sal said warmly, no doubt taking in the dozens of custom toys, wallpaper, and even the Geppetto avatar I’d made over the last few days.
“You made this?” Marie asked, the family pressing in around her to see it.
“No.”
“Who did?” Marie asked.
He swiveled, his bright eyes lasering in on me. “She did.”
Everyone turned to me.
I swallowed to loosen the tightness in my throat and attempted a small smile and wave. “Hi.”
