Page 25 of We Used To Be Magic

‘You don’t?’

‘Nope. But Bigfoot is real, and I’ll die on that hill.’

‘What about manifesting?’

‘Manifesting. See, I’veheardof that …’

‘Thinking about the things you want until they come true, basically.’

‘Did you manifest all of this, then? Is that why you’re always in a sparkly dress and I’m always holding a tray?’

‘Wow. There’s that ego again.’

He laughs, throwing his head back. I made him laugh, and it’s such a good feeling that I have to take another sip of my drink to hide the big, stupid smile threatening to overtake my face. I’m usually so weird and stilted with people I don’t know – I can barely manage small talk, let alone witty repartee. But the same thing happened the night we met – it was like I was talking to someone I’d known all my life. And I really,trulycannot get over the odds of us meeting again.

I’m suddenly gripped by this overwhelming sense of significance. Like somehow, this night was always going to end with him.

‘How about we toast to hanging out?’ I say then, straightening slightly. ‘Normal, non-cosmic plans. No sparkles.’

‘Sparkle-free zone.’ He smiles, knocking his cup against mine. And there’s just something about the way he’s looking at me all of a sudden – I feel my cheeks heat, dropping my gaze as I drain the remnants of my drink.

I think I liked it better when he was the flustered one.

EZRA

hey audrey, it’s ezra. i was wondering if you’re free this weekend. if you are, then

No. Too formal and weird. I delete what I’ve written and start over.

hi audrey, ezra here. it was really great to see you last

God, no. I try again.

morning. what are your feelings about food, and potentially eating some with me? me being ezra.

Fuck it, I think, and hit send before I lose my nerve. Then I tuck my phone into my jeans and get back to cleaning.

When I woke up this morning my apartment was littered with trash, every flat surface was sticky and someone had puked in the kitchen sink. And yet, I’m pretty damn chipper. Last night was better than I had any reasonable hope to expect and it ended with Audrey’s name at the very top of my phone contacts.

We talked all night – or for as long as she was there, at least, which was nowhere near as long as I would have liked. And she is, for lack of a better word, lovely. I don’t even remember the bulk of what was said, just howeasyit was. It felt like the verbal equivalent of a Fred and Ginger routine – that’s how in sync we were.

Still, I’m trying not to overthink it, hence the energy I’m devoting to wiping down these countertops. Audrey might not reply right away, if at all. She’s busy, I figure, and—

Then my phone buzzes in my pocket and I scramble for it so quickly that I almost drop it.

Positive :) Are you free now?

I grin, dropping the sponge and wiping my hands on my jeans. Sod the countertops. I’m getting brunch.

‘This issogood. Oh my God.’

‘You like it?’

‘Yes! God – I can’t believe I used to think that goat’s cheese was gross.’

‘Accepting past mistakes is an important step toward personal growth.’

Audrey takes another bite of her bagel in lieu of reply, holding it with both hands like she’s scared someone might take it away. Maybe she’s all too aware that I ate mine in about six bites, though in fairness, it was very fucking good.

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