“Yes, I do,” Jamie says with ahmph. “It just takes metimeto decide. Not all of us are ultra-efficient like you are.”
I leave Jamie be for the moment and pour two glasses of rosé, swigging down half of mine before offering the other to him.
“Done yet?”
“Impatient much?”
“Well, apparently, I’mhangry.” A growl rumbles in my words.
“Oh. Right. Okay, yep.”
Jamie changes his mind three more times in the process of ordering, and I end the call by ordering the last two things he was stuck between.
He winces, then says, “I guess I’m pretty hungry…”
“Whatever you don’t eat is mine. Or do you really think fish and rice is enough of a dinner for me?”
Calm spreads over Jamie’s face. “Oh… Thank you.”
He’s sitting on the bed, and I leaned against it to make the call.
We’re so close.
“W-want to watch TV?” he offers, scrabbling backwards for the remote.
“Sure,” I breathe. My stomach twists. I must be so hungry I’m nauseated. Because I couldn’t possibly be… nervous.
Something squirms in my chest, and it’s not the beast.
“Oh, I can’t believe this is on! It’s my favorite.”
“What is it?” On the screen, a group of people climbs down into a disgusting basement.
“Home Wreck Fixer. Have you ever seen it?”
“No.”
“Well, the homes start as wrecks. And then they fix them. It’s very satisfying.”
“Hm.”
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Reality TV is a sacred pastime. C’mon, what’s your guilty pleasure? Maybe it’ll be on after this.” The shifting lights of the TV play across his sincere expression.
“I don’t watch TV.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
Jamie looks at me with pity. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I have better things to do.”
“Unlikely. We’re watching this, and at the end, you’ll see.”
Five minutes later, the format of this show is already painfully clear. Shock and awe for the first third. Neatly edited construction for the second. Glossy reveal for the third. Predictable.
Jamie gasps at every made-for-TV twist. “Oh no, do you believe that? …ohshit. …wow, that’ssmart.”
