Page 100 of The Sun and Her Star

In the week since, he’s listened to me grow more and more panicked as each day came and went without her calling.

I start to respond to her text and then change my mind. The phone rings once before she picks it up.

“Hello?” She’s whispering and sounds breathless.

“Hello, yourself.”

“Why are you calling me at three-thirty in the morning?” she hisses.

“Uh, you just sent me a text. Clearly, I didn’t wake you,” I quip.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” she asks irritably. “I thought you’d see that when you got up at noon or whatever time you normally roll out bed,” she shoots back.

“Ouch. You certainly woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I hope there’s no trouble in paradise.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you weremywoman and you were awake at three-thirty in the morning, it would be because I was eating your sweet little pussy … or fucking it. It wouldn’t be because you were texting another man.”

She doesn’t say a word. I have to stifle my snicker.

“Hello?”

“I’m here,” she croaks.

This time I can’t hold back my laughter, “Well,holyshit. I have rendered Apollo speechless. Let’s mark the date on the calendar. God only knows when we’ll see it again.”

“Oh, shut up, Graham. And stop being crass. I called to see if we could meet and talk.”

“Justtalk?”

“Can you meet or not? This afternoon?” she snaps.

“Of course, I can meet. But why not now?” I ask.

“Well, because I have meetings all morning. I want to try and sleep for a few hours, so I don’t look like I just woke up from a coma.” I laugh at the visual.

“It’s true. I already have terrible bags under my eyes,” she complains. “Anyway, I won’t be free until the afternoon.” She explains it like I’m a five-year-old who might not understand.

I lie back on my pillow and relax. Even if she’s pissed at me, I love hearing Apollo’s voice. It’s soothing.

“I’m free until about five-thirty. And I’m a month out from orientation. So, I can be anywhere, anytime you’d like,” I tell her, my words full of innuendo I know she doesn’t miss.

She ignores me. “Okay, meet me at the Sun and Her Star at 1:30. It’s at West Seventeenth Street between Sixth and Seventh Avenue.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll be there with bells on,” I reply happily.

“Fine. Well, goodbye,” she says primly.

“Wait,” I call. I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.

“For what?” she asks wearily.

“Why are you awake, Sunshine?” I ask, serious now. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a beat of silence before she answers.

“No, Graham, everything isnotokay. I can’t sleep because part of me wants to get up and come find you and crawl into your bed and make up for five years of lost time. And the other half of me wants to pack a suitcase and put as much distance as I can between us.”

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