Page 66 of Top Shelf
It’sher.
I snatch the phone up before it can go to voicemail.
“Nessa?”
“Oh, thank gosh! I am so, so sorry, Gavin! I don’t know what I did!” she cries into the phone, a hiccup interrupting the last word.
“Nessa, calm down,” I tell her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I… I…” Another hiccup. “He’s just floating there! I fed him the brine shrimp exactly like you told me to but he’s just floating and not moving and?—”
“Who is floating there?”
“It’s… I… Well, I don’t know. I can’t tell them apart.”
I grin. The fish. She’s panicking over the fish.
“Is it the big one or the small one?”
“Small. I think.”
“If small, that’s Rufus. The females are bigger. They’re the dominant fish.”
“Really?” She sniffles. “That’s kind of badass.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it is. Okay, so what exactly is Rufus doing?”
She cries again. “He’s…floating.”
“Where at?”
“Huh?”
“Where in the tank is he floating?”
“Oh. Um, near the bottom. In the back corner. I actually couldn’t find him at first, so that freaked me out, then I saw him and I just… Did I kill him?”
I try not to laugh again, especially with how upset she is. “No, Nessa, you didn’t kill him. He’s sleeping.”
“What!” It comes out more of a screech, and this time I do laugh. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, pretty sure.”
“I can’t live withpretty sure. I’m putting you on video chat so you can see him with your own eyes.”
I hear the beep come through before she even finishes her sentence, and I pull the phone from my ear to hit accept. Her face fills the screen, and my first thought is,Fuck, she’s beautiful.I know it’s been less than forty-eight hours since I saw her, and I have no right to, but I miss her.
“Look!” She flips the camera around to show me my fish. “He’s just floating.”
She’s right. He is just floating. But I’ve had Rufus long enough to know that’s exactly what he looks like when he sleeps. He’s also in his favorite spot, which he likes to go to at night.
“Did I kill him?” she asks again, turning the phone back to her. She chews on her bottom lip, her green eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“Nope. He’s sleeping, as suspected.”
Her shoulders visibly sag with relief, and she falls against the couch. There’s a blanket behind her that looks suspiciously like the one from my bed, but I don’t question it. I’m too busy looking at her.
“Thank god,” she says. “I’ve been waiting for your game to end so I could call you. Definitely didn’t want to give you that news during intermission.”
