I stop.
I just — stop.
Hand on the phone. Phone still buzzing. Screen still showing his name.
I don’t flip it. I don’t pick it up. I sit there with my hand on the phone and the phone buzzing and Katarina’s eyes on me.
She doesn’t say anything.
She’s not asking. She’s just sitting there with her fork halfway down to her tray and her eyes on my face.
The phone keeps buzzing.
I don’t move my hand.
The phone stops buzzing.
The stop is louder than the ringing was.
“Kat.”
“Yeah.”
A long second.
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
I close it.
Look at my tray. Look back up.
“Sorry, that’s just — hold on.”
She doesn’t say anything.
I watch myself almost-do the thing. Watch the deflection start to come out of my mouth. Watch my hand move to flip the phone now that the buzzing has stopped — close it, finish the move, get back to Dina, this never happened.
I stop my hand again.
“Give me a second.”
“Take it.”
She still hasn’t moved her fork.
I sit there.
The cafeteria is still doing its thing around us. Two trainers walk past behind Katarina. Someone’s laugh from three tables over. The hum of the soda machine.
I don’t know how to start.
I’ve rehearsed this conversation in my car for months and yet I don’t have a single sentence that I can get out of my mouth right now.
I open my mouth.
“That was Griffin.”
