TWELVE
Mateo
Gina leaves the apartment, and Florian and I are alone.
“Where’s my phone?” Florian asks.
“I have it.” I remove it from my satchel.
“I want to see pictures of us,” Florian says.
I pause. “You do?”
“Yes.” Florian wraps his arms around my waist, and it’s all I can do to not collapse against his sturdy frame and pretend I have an amazing boyfriend who wants to look at photos of us together.
Except… There are no photos of us.
Florian is a practical stranger, and I am lying to him.
“You know what? It’s not charged!”
“Oh.” He blinks.
“I can’t give you an uncharged phone!”
“Then I’ll charge it.”
I don’t look at him. I have his charger.
Daniela gave me his phone and his charger and his keys and the change of clothes he kept in his locker.
“You know what, I didn’t see a charger,” I lie.
The doctor told him not to look at screens, anyway.
“Maybe I have one around here.”
“I don’t remember seeing a phone charger when I was here.”
“Oh.” He blinks.
“But, if not, we can buy one!”
Florian brightens.
Shit.
I bought myself time, then insisted on having less time.
But Florian probably does need his phone. I just don’t want to answer now why he doesn’t have photos of me.
“I think it’s time for bed,” I say.
Florian smiles at me.
Shit.I’m in unethical territory.
I lead him to his bedroom. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
