Page 39 of You Spin Me

“Miles came up with a different exercise, and we all got super silly. Maybe in the end it shook things up in the way that he wanted. But I can’t shake the humiliation.” A shiver runs through me at the risks I’m taking with this man, but something keeps me going. “I don’t like not being perfect.”

“You don’t think you can be perfect and flawed at the same time?”

“Uh, no.”

“Maybe ‘perfectly suited for what you’re doing’ is more like what I mean.”

“I don’t know.” It’s a bit too New Age for me, but I’m suddenly too exhausted to argue. “Thanks, Cal. Thanks for… listening. And just being there.”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat, but when he does, he sounds almost teary. “Being here for you is the best part of my day, J.” Another pause, and then I can almost hear him shift gears as he goes on. “Thanks for the interview practice. How’d I do?”

“Pretty good, actually. You got an exclusive. Shakespeare actress confesses she can’t read.”

“I just want you to have good dreams.”

“‘And then in dreaming the clouds methought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again.’” I sigh, but it’s a grateful one rather than a frustrated one. “That’s some Caliban for Callihan. Good night,” I whisper.

“Good night, princess.”

Thankful that I’m already in bed under piles of covers, I pressEndand drop the phone onto its base before I roll over and drop my head onto my pillow.

Chapter10

This hour of Friday afternoon, commercial-free radio is brought to you by Nanticket—sorry, Nantucket Nictars, I mean, Necktick—tuck neck. Oh, for crying out loud. Just buy the juice.

CAL

The ringing of a phone wakes me up Friday morning. My phone. In my apartment. Ringing too early in the morning.

By the time I get to the kitchen to pick it up, my heart’s in a panic. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Penny. I—”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter.”

Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I stumble to the couch, my scars complaining because I got up so fast. “Why are you calling me so early?”

“It’s after two, lazybones,” my sister says. “In the afternoon.”

“Whoa. I guess I slept late.” When I turn on a lamp, the dog and cat stir in their beds and begin to yawn. They must’ve given up on waking me. “Did you want something?”

“Who’s the girl?”

“What girl?”

“The girl you talked to on the radio last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You got some girl to tell you her troubles on the air last night.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rocketing to my feet, I startle the pets. They’re taking their stretching awake, but they’ll be whining and yowling any second. Meanwhile, my sister’s words knit together some sense from the cobwebs of my brain, but I don’t like the story they’re spinning.

“I was up with the baby, like usual, listening to you, like usual, and the girl told you about her learning disability. It was weird but kinda cool. Is that a new thing you’re doing?”

“Fuck.” As I struggle to get dressed with the phone crooked in my shoulder, I’m also struggling to figure out how this happened. “Shit. No. That was a mistake.”

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