Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 107949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“Dude, you FaceTimed me.”
“What the shit is a face time?”
“You video called me instead of regular calling me. Like Skype.”
“Shit, that’s a thing?”
I nodded as he paced around the room. “Um, you’re kind of giving me vertigo. Can you either sit still or just regular call me.”
“Oh, sorry.” He threw himself down on the couch. “Where are you?” He cocked his head, squinting at the phone.
“Washington Square Park.” I tilted the phone so he could see the arch and then the fountain.
“Oh, nice.”
We chatted for a bit and swapped finals horror stories. One of his students had asked for an extension on a paper because his roommate accidentally took mushrooms and then dropped his computer out their window on the tenth floor.
“How do you accidentally take mushrooms?”
“I don’t think he took them accidentally,” Daniel said. “I think he probably just misestimated their efficacy.”
“Did you give him the extension?”
“Yeah. I mean, Jesus. Living with people sounds like utter hell.”
Since Daniel had never lived in the dorms while he was in college, he had been fascinated all year to hear my stories of the bizarre goings-on there.
“Well you do live with someone, you know.”
“Oh, well, but Rex isn’t someone.” I could see the softness that always crept into Daniel’s voice when he mentioned Rex in his eyes too. “He redid all the cabinets this weekend.” He pointed the phone into the kitchen where I could see exactly nothing because he wasn’t holding his hand still or angling the screen right.
“You’ll have to give me the grand tour in person.”
“Oh, right, right, that’s why I called. So, do you want to come next weekend or the weekend after? Either is fine, but Rex is doing this workshop at the queer youth group where Colin volunteers next Saturday, so he just wouldn’t be around for some of it.”
“Oh man, how’s stuff going with you and Colin?”
“The same, really. It’s good, but kinda awkward. He never comes here because he says he can tell that Rex still hates him. Basically true. But Rafe and Rex actually get along really well—they’re ridiculous together. Like, Rafe will talk super seriously about something and explain the whole thing and then ask Rex what he thinks, and Rex will say like five words, but of course they’re so perfectly true, and Rafe actually gets him, so he’ll just sit there and be like, ‘Huh. Yes. That’s true.’ And then they’ll both sit there and think about shit together.”
“Can I meet them when I visit?”
“Yeah, sure. You’ll think they’re weird. Rafe has like zero sense of humor, and Colin will probably do magic tricks for you.”
“Um. Yeah, that is weird. Okay, so weekend after next sounds good. Hopefully I won’t be homeless by then.”
I filled Daniel in on our fruitless search for an apartment.
“Ugh, what a shit show. You should go to res life. They usually have a list of buildings around campus that do deals with students who are staying in the summer.”
“Seriously? Oh god, thank you, you’re a life saver.”
At the far end of the park a camera crew was setting up, clearing an area for a group of women in colorful saris who began to dance, their movements made magical by the spray of the fountain.
“Hey, so, listen,” I said just before we hung up. “Um. What if I could convince Will to come to Philly with me? Would that be cool? I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be able to, but. Just in case.”
“So… does that mean you guys are like…. What does that mean?”
“We’re gonna try being… a thing or whatever.” My grin was so huge it was kind of hurting my face.
Daniel got this almost sappy expression on his face.
“Aw, man. That’s great. I know it’s what you wanted. Also, PS, if that fucker does anything to you, I’ll—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Thanks. Really, thanks.”
He nodded, but then his expression soured.
“Ugh, so I guess that means we’ll have to try and get along better.” His mouth was in a resentful pout. “So, okay, yeah, sure, bring Mini-Skarsgård, whatever.”
“You know he calls you the Prince of Poetry.”
Daniel scowled and muttered something that sounded like “pretty boy model asshole bullshit,” but I couldn’t be sure.
HAVING DONE all the laundry I’d been hoarding during the last month, I was idly packing my clothes while Charles and I listened to Serial, pausing it every few minutes to argue about what was going on.
I’d texted Milton to go to res life since he had already packed, and he’d gotten leads on three really good options for apartments. We were going to go see them the next morning.
I couldn’t believe the year was over. It was kind of how I felt when I sank into watching a really immersive TV show—like I couldn’t imagine the characters and settings not being parts of my life—and then it was over. Only, unlike a show, there was no real climax.