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Fancy

She likes me. Like, top five favorite person.

Ozzie

Maybe top one hundred.

Fancy

I’m gonna ask her tonight. And you better not tip your girlfriend off.

Ozzie

Dial is not my girlfriend.

The term girlfriend felt frivolous, too flimsy a descriptor for the woman who was my whole world.

Fancy

Excuse me?

Ozzie

Dial is… Dial. My Dial.

Fancy

You can’t go around introducing her as “your Dial.”

Ozzie

Introduce her to who? Everyone in Hume already knows it.

Fancy

I’ll see you tonight. Don’t forget to tell Dial about the color palette.

21

Dial

“So, tell us about the album,” I said.

“It’s not an album yet, but I think I have some decent songs.”

“Fancy’s being modest. She has a hit on her hands,” Edison said.

“You’re just being nice.” Fancy rubbed her nose against Edison’s.

Ozzie whispered to me, “Try not to hurl, darling.”

It wasn’t that I hated public displays of affection. I just didn’t like being close to them. It was like an invasion of privacy.

This was our first official date since getting back together, and we’d decided to make it a double with Edison and Fancy. We were in Ellsmore, a city fifty miles north of Hume. Ellsmore was known for its active nightlife, with dozens of restaurants, bars, and nightclubs. In a booth at Hollow Grain, we were treated to lo-fi music to cut the conversations in the packed restaurant. This place had a moody vibe, and I could barely see my food because it was so dimly lit.

Fancy turned her attention back to me. “Has Oz told you about the Texas build?”

“Nobody wants to talk about work, Francesca.” I glanced at Ozzie. He never called Fancy by her full name unless he was teasing or pissed.