It’s everything I ever wanted.
Isn’t it?
Brushing the tears away, I pull my fancy new iPad into my lap. Francesca insisted on it.
“Bad enough you refuse to get a cellphone,” she informed me, shoving the tablet into my hands. “But no email address? What is this, the Stone Age? How on earth am I supposed to get in touch with you? How on earth will I coordinate your schedule?”
I open the calendar app and read through the events she’s set up for tomorrow. Ryder and I have a radio interview with KLAX 102.3 tomorrow morning at seven sharp, to catch commuters on their way to work as we chat about the new album. Unease shivers through me at the prospect of another interview. No matter how many we do, they never get easier.
Bracing my shoulders, I tell myself to get over it. Tomorrow, I will smile politely. I will strive to be charming. I will laugh at all the appropriate intervals as we tell the story of our viral Fourth of July reunion, just as I’ve done every other time.
That was the best moment of my life,I’ll say, smiling over at Ryder.
Can it only be six weeks, since then? It feels like a lifetime has passed. I’ve told our story so many times now, it’s starting to feel like it happened to someone else. Like it’s not my story at all. Notmeat all.
Just a girl I used to know, back in a city I used to love.
Another tear slides down my cheek. I scrub at it angrily.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, tonight.