“Bastard. He hasn’t said anything about it.” Ozrik pulled his phone out and checked his messages. A low whistle followed. “Wow. I think this is the first time in my life Vern has out-texted my mother.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Shit, and I have a missed call from Charles, so someone tattled.” He scrolled a minute longer before shutting it off and tucking it away again. “Fuck ’em. Part of me wants to tell Charles to stick his show up his ass. It’s not worth it. They’ve spoiled the one good thing I had going in life. Our followers have beenraging because we haven’t posted a thing since signing that contract, and we can’t tell them why, either.”
“Olivia mentioned something similar. They’ve lost subscribers.”
“Same.”
We didn’t talk for a while, and I sensed Ozrik was stewing over the stupid reality show we’d all agreed to. Was anyone having fun?
Twilight turned to night. Through the shifting, moving clouds, a few pinpricks of stars appeared.
The sky stretched long and far, an endless world surrounding us. Despite the wide-open space, it felt more private than the previous night in Ozrik’s room.
“Did you get good pictures?” he asked.
“I think so.”
“Is that what you want to do for a career?”
“What? Take pictures?”
“Yeah, or write for magazines or whatever it is you’ve got going on.”
“Oh. I don’t know. I like photography, but it’s not that simple. My work is… I’m not a professional.Weatherhas let me do the odd piece because of my education. It would never be permanent. I’m not sure I could get anything sustainable in that field. Most magazines hire freelance photographers. Anyone working full-time has a degree behind their name, qualifying them for the job. I’m an amateur.”
“What about a career in atmospheric science?”
“I’ve had a few offers in my field, but honestly, I don’t think it’s what I want to do.”
Ozriktsked, playfully elbowing me. “Should have taken meteorology. I hear it’s way better.”
I chuckled. “Right. I know it’s stupid. I spent four years in school for what?”
“At least you went to college.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nah.”
“How come?”
Ozrik was quiet for so long, I wasn’t sure he would answer. “My mother.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how else to respond. His mother seemed like a touchy subject.
He sighed. “What all do you know?”
The question was vague. I rolled my head to examine his face, but he gave nothing away, gaze fixed on the sky. “About your mother? Not much. I’ve heard she’s… controlling?”
I didn’t know if that was the right word, and I didn’t want to upset him by saying the wrong thing.
Ozrik smirked. “That’s one way to put it. Although this is my unofficial diagnosis, I believe Stella has a form of Munchausen by proxy. Do you know what that is?”
“Vaguely. Isn’t it where you make yourself sick on purpose?”
“Technically, yes. Theby proxymeans it’s directed at someone else. Usually a child. She made me sick on purpose.”
