She nodded. “They’re kicking around here somewhere. I’ll introduce you.”
“But you’ve never …” He waved his hand out and vaguely down. “… gonein?Not all the way?”
“No,” she said, and because she knew what the next question would be, she added, “I’m not sure why.” She looked away from him. At the park they were sitting in. It was a lovely spring day. The trees were in bloom. The irises were up. There were people everywhere, if you looked for them. “It’s been all teenagers and magicians around here for the last few years. She’s hardly thought of me.”
“Ah,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”
Anna looked back at him, smiling broadly. She had small, even teeth and shallow dimples. Her eyes were a specific shade of blue, and her hair parted on the right. “Don’t be. It’s not a bad life. I mean—it could be worse. It’s not like she writes horror stories. She doesn’t even write villains, really.”
“No villains?”
“Nope. Every once in a while we get what my dad calls a ‘complicated character’ …”
The man’s eyebrows pulled up a bit in the middle. It was an advanced expression. Disbelief plus compassion. “I still can’t believe you have parents.”
“I have a best friend, too! And a career—I even have a cat!”
He grinned. “You’re like Barbie.”
“Ha!” She elbowed him. “That’s something you’ll like about this place. We all get each other’s jokes.”
He looked away from her. At the park. The pathways. The figures moving in the trees. “It never even occurred to me that I’d be here long—certainly not for years.”
“Well. Not much has occurred to you, right?”
He turned back to her and settled against the bench, folding his ankle over his knee. “I guess you’re right. Still … I sort of took shape feeling like I was about to go straight in.” He held his hand flat and pushed forward.
“Right into battle.”
“Yeah …”
“Well, maybe you are!” Anna didn’t want to drag him down into the weeds with her. “She’s always on deadline. There could be something brewing. You don’t seem to be a teenager …”
“I’m thirty-two,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” She turned toward him, sitting sideways on the bench. “I’m thirty-four. Do you have a birthday?”
“Sometime in February.”
She leaned forward. “That’s areallygood sign! I mean, if you’re hoping to be a main character.”
He cocked a reddish-blond eyebrow. “Don’t most people want that?”
“God, no.” Anna laughed. “Not even the ones who get chosen. Lots of nervous types around here.”
He frowned. “I don’t feel very nervous … I mean, not constitutionally.”
“Really? Hmm. You might not be a main character, then. You could be a romantic lead. Would you like that?”
He seemed to think about it. His chin got all rumply. “Maybe. I mean … I’m not against it. Everyone needs a little romance, don’t they?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
His eyes jumped back up to her. “Oh God, sorry.”
“Ha.” She poked his arm. “I’m just teasing.”
“Oh.” He looked relieved. “Good. I mean. You know … you don’t seem very nervous either.”
