Page 55 of Nine-Tenths

"Gem, he'sperfect." I whine, wiping off my hands and throwing the towel over my shoulder as I turn to lean back against the counter. I glance at the door. Still safe. "He's nice, and polite, and he'ssucha great kisser, so obviously he's regretting every second he ever spent pining for me and he's secretly planning to fuck off and never come back, and I don't even know where helives. I like himso muchand this issucha stupid mistake. What am I doing? Should I end it?"

"Whatareyou doing?" Gemma asks. "Are you actually asking me to help you think up reasons to break up with him because you’ve convinced yourself he's gonna leave you without even saying goodbye?"

"Yes."

"That’s just the brain weasels talking."

"There's no reason why a dragon like him—"

"What?" Gemma screeches. The silence that follows it echoes like shattered glass.

"Did Mum not tell you?" I ask softly.

"No."

"Surprise?" Even though she can't see them, I add jazz hands, which just end up flinging droplets of gray dishwater all over.

"Okay." She sounds like this is something she's decided to freak out about later. "Dragon. Wow. Okay."

"How do I keep him from vanishing?"

"The cute dragon," Gemma clarifies.

"Yes. The cute dragon."

"The cute dragon who came into the café every morning for like a year and a half."

"Yes, that cute dragon." I don't add that Dav only came in because he was lonely and aimless.

"The cute dragon who looks at you like a besotted idiot in every single photo I’ve seen?"

"Yes, that cute dragon," I snap. "Have you inherited Mum's bad ears?"

"I'm just being sure," Gemma laughs.

"Don't tease! I'm serious."

The thought of Dav just changing his mind and leaving isstupid. Today has been great. He wanted to cook dinner, so he went out to the farmer's market around the corner and I said I'd stay behind and do the dishes. As soon as he left, I'd been smashed with this sudden, black-dog, steel-wool, terrible thought:What if he never comes back? What if I end up standing here in this stupid, yellow, horrible kitchen watching the door and it never, ever opens again?

It's awful and dumb.

It's my goddamn brain weasels and Iknowthat.

Doesn't make it anylessawful and dumb.

"Listen," Gemma says gently. "Not everybody you love will leave without the chance to say goodbye. He’s not Dad."

"That's not why I—"

"Colin."

The way she says my name stings. A hot wave of sorrow crowds my larynx, climbing up my throat into my sinuses, stinging and terrible. "Fine. Maybe it is."

"Did you take your meds today?"

"Yes?"

"Is that a question?"