He picks up his empty bottle and takes it to the kitchen.Over his shoulder, he says, “It doesn’t matter the exact words she said—it matters what she meant.”
“Come with us on Wednesday.The three of us should play together again.In person.”
“No.”He returns to the living room, but he doesn’t sit.
“It will be good for us.All three of us.She’s the one, Seth.”
He waves his hand as he starts to the door, as if he cannot be bothered to engage further on this subject.“Goodnight, Romano.”
* * *
MADISON
Two days after the Surf Rats game, and my brain is still a ball of confusion.I thought Seth liked everything we did.I thought we were both having fun.
And then he was just…pissed.
All those buttons I pushed to get a reaction out of him—did I push too hard?
To distract myself from the uncomfortable question, I pull out one of Great-Aunt Vivienne’s letters from the mysteriousI.
Dearest, when will we see each other again?It is winter outside and it is winter in my heart.The fire in the hearth touches none of the cold.
The letter goes on, bleak and full of yearning.It ends with,I miss you, little fish.I set it down and close the translation app before it can request payment for further translation.Damn, that was sad.WereIand Vivienne ever able to reunite?The large stack of letters makes me think they weren’t.
A sudden creaking sound downstairs raises the hairs on the back of my neck and starts my heart pounding.But the alarm is on, and I know nobody is down there.This is just an old house, and it makes old house noises.Especially on windy days like today, where the trees sway back and forth as if they’re in a hypnotized trance.
I carefully put the letter back in its envelope and retie the melancholy, faded red ribbon.Nothing like an intercontinental, star-crossed love affair to make my frustrations with Seth seem petty by comparison.
As I set the letters back in the desk drawer, my phone chimes with a notification.
It’s a text from Damiano.Are you excited for Wednesday?
My stomach makes a twisting loop of excitement.Two days until we go to Low Vice.Together, this time.It won’t be for an auction, but for a Halloween masquerade.
Very excited, I type back.I bought a new dress.
Show me.
No way.It’s a surprise.I already know it’ll be appropriate, because he sent me a site full of ideas.The sheer, gauzy dress I picked will leave almost no part of my body to the imagination.The material thickens everywhere a bikini would touch, but otherwise, I’ll be practically nude.And because I’ll be wearing a mask over the top of my face, I won’t feel the slightest bit self-conscious.I can show off without fearing judgment.
May I at least know the color, so my suit will match?he writes back.
I laugh.Please don’t show up in a dark purple suit.
He sends back a purple devil grinning emoji, which makes me laugh again.
Leaving the library, I go to my room to photograph a corner of the dress’s fabric for Damiano.His suit will not be purple, but he might want a pocket square in the same color, or a mask with highlights that match mine.
I send the pic to Damiano and hold the dress up against myself, dancing in front of the mirror to watch the fabric move.I can’t wait for Wednesday.I’m tempted to put on the dress now, and wander around the house in it.I’d pretend I’m a dancer, a servant to a king, and he can command me to dance for him—or fuck him—at his whim.Is it something I’d want in real life?Fuck no.But it’s certainly fun to fantasize about.
Damiano wouldn’t mind role-playing the king, I’m sure of it.
And Seth?my mind whispers.
I tell my mind to be quiet.I need to get a job or something, so I don’t have all this time to drive myself crazy.Thankfully, someone knocks on my front door.
I set my dress aside and hurry downstairs to peer through the peephole.It’s my neighbor, Matthew Kavlan.His dark brown hair is messy from the wind.
