Page 28 of Fade into You

“HowamI doing?” I repeat. “Ugh, I don’t know. Okay, I guess. I mean, school definitely feels weird. Like, I’m just already ready to be done—now that I sort of know what college life is like, having all that freedom and having…”you, I don’t say,and Kat.“It’s just hard to go backward.”

“Exactly.”

“I, um, I did the open mic night.”

“Nice,” he says. “How was it?”

“Kind of terrible,” I admit.

“No, I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“It really was! This awful girl was laughing at me while I was up there. It was humiliating. Truly mortifying. I don’t know how I’ll ever do that again.”

“Come on. Don’t let one idiot ruin it for you.”

I’m surprised by how I bristle at him calling Jessa an idiot… even if she was being an idiot, laughing at me with Dade. It was probably Dade’s fault anyway. I’m sure he started it. Or maybe she just thought my poem was stupid.

“Thing is, she’s actually not an idiot, so maybe she was right to laugh, I don’t know.”

“Hey. If she was laughing at you, she’s an idiot. You’re amazing.”

“Why do you still say stuff like that, Silas?”

“Because it’s true.”

I don’t know how to respond to that.

“Hey, what time is it there?” he asks after my silence becomes uncomfortable.

I glance over at the stove. “Like ten thirty.”

“Kinda late for you.” He pauses. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “Mostly. I was waiting to hear from Charlie about our dad.”

“Did he find anything? Does he know where he is, or…?”

“I don’t know, we keep missing each other.”

“Hmm,” I hear him mutter.

“But anyway… did you submit your story to that magazine, like you said you would?”

“Yep. I mailed it in the day we got back. Haven’t heard anything yet, though.”

“I’m sure they’ll love it.”

“I’m not!” he says, laughing again. He really does have the best laugh, all big and loud and shameless, not a mean note to it.

“If they don’t, then they’re idiots too.”

“Thanks.”

There’s a pause, and it’s out of my mouth before I can censor myself. “Hey, have you heard from Kat at all?” And then the quiet just stretches out even further, making me wish I could rewind and think first and tell myself not to mention her.

“We’ve emailed a little, yeah. Talked to her a couple times on the phone. Funny, she asked the same about you.”

“Sorry, I don’t know why I—I shouldn’t have brought her up. Sorry,” I say again.