The tech stuff is actually really fun! Getting a crash course in a bunch of things, but I might want to do it at home, too? Anyway, she’s the lead.
Wow, I wrote.Picture?
A pause. Then, with a beep, a shot of Ryan and the same girl with the olive skin and long, curly dark hair who’d had the army cap on in the shot she’d sent earlier. This time, though, it was just the two of them making faces, goofing for the camera, but even so, I could see something in my longtime friend that was different. A happiness, almost a glow.
She’s pretty! You have a type, clearly,I wrote.
????
I laughed out loud.Ry, she looks like Jasmine!
A beep. Then another.
I am laughing so hard right now
Omg you’re right!
Beep.
I didn’t even make the connection!
Good thing you have me,I replied.
A pause. I tried to picture her on some steep hill, surrounded by scrub brush, away from camp to share this with someone. And she’d picked me, which felt like a gift.
I’m glad we’re cool,she said now.
I am very cool,I agreed.
Not really,she replied.But about this, yes.
Then:Don’t tell Bridget, okay? I want to.
Of course.
How about you?she wrote.Found a prince (or princess) yet?
I knew I should tell her about Blake, the prom, and everything else. But as she said this, I only thought of Roo.
Not yet,I typed back.
Beep.Okay, I need to get off the mountain. Dress is tonight. Talk soon?
Definitely.
A row of smiley faces appeared on the screen, followed by a bright red heart. I smiled, putting my phone back on the floor before stretching back out across the bed with a yawn. I couldn’t say I was totally surprised by Ryan’s news, as she’d always had a lack of interest when it came to Bridget’s incessant chatter about boys. As one of her two closest friends, though, maybe I should have asked a few more questions. Instead, I’d just assumed she was straight because I was. What kind of a friend did that? I picked up my phone again and started a new text to her.
Hey I’m sorry
No, that wasn’t right.
I didn’t realize, I should have
Even worse.
The cursor just sat there, blinking. I looked out at the water outside my window. There was still time to come up with the right words, and probably better to say themface-to-face anyway. So I just sent her a heart back, and left it at that.
“So you’ll be a senior this year,” Mrs. Delhomme said to me as the waiter refilled her wineglass. A woman about Nana’s age, she was deeply tan, with short white hair she wore so spiky it resembled plumage. “Do you have college plans?”
