* * *
 
 Henry: I’d have finished it last night, but Georgie took off with it.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: That’s why you wrote. You’re bored.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: There are more essays to grade, but I’m putting them off to later in the week. You’ve read The Duke’s Sin, so how upset should I be that Georgie is holding it hostage?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Very. It’s a thrilling romantic adventure.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Tobias doesn’t know what trouble he’s landed himself in.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: He’s bookish smart, but not life smart. Nice.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Nice? You pain me.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: What’s wrong with nice?
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: This is a nice day. Those are nice sneakers. I’m having a nice conversation. It’s a very nice word. You’re a writer, not a thirteen-year-old commending his best friend on their choice of crush. Give me one-of-a-kind.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Niiiiiice.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: An insult to my ears.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Then I’ll stop thinking of you as nice.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Nice? Or niiiiice?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: So you agree intonation can add significant meaning to simple words, rendering them one of a kind?
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: I think I prefer you when you’re . . . parched.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Henry!
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Apologies. What are you reading? Is it nice?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: As nice as you are cheeky.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Elaborate.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: I’m reading a mystery series by Josh Lanyon. It’s very good.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Lanyon? From Ralph Lanyon in The Charioteer?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: I don’t know. The Charioteer?”
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: I’ll explain another day.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: What are the books about?
 
 Cameron: Sorry, got busy at work. Now at home. Just took a dip in the pool.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: As in, still wet?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: A towel around my waist. Showered. Might be lame, but it’s straight to bed for me.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: It’s ten o’clock. Long day. Did you eat?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Footlong from Subway, extra mayo.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Do you do it on purpose?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: What?
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Never mind.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: ???
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: So you’re practically naked and heading to bed . . .
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: I wasn’t trying to sext you!
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: You weren’t trying.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Oh, God. Am I Freudian-slipping everywhere?
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Or I have a shockingly lewd sense of humor. Forgive me.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: I like humor.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Well, aren’t we two penises in a pod?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: You did that on purpose.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: No regrets. Did you receive your ball invitations?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Isabella literally squealed.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: What will you be wearing?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Nothing.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: As good as that sounds, not very appropriate.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: I’m not coming.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Why not?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: The Tilney manse is haunted, and you didn’t really want me there.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: I asked you.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: You were coerced.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Isabella didn’t coerce me. She gave me the excuse to express my desires.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: I believe you.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: You’re still not coming?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: How was the rest of your day?
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Good up to now. Alicia called and said she’s moving here at the end of November.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Oh. That’s good?
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: That’s exciting. Great. Wonderful.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Glad you’re happy.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Ecstatic.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Big words.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Big feelings.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: She sounds like quite something.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Let me tell you about it . . .
 
 Cameron: I cannot stay up until three in the morning like last night.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Now we’ve established the ground rules, how are you?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: I mean I want to stay up, but I can’t.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Want me to set an alarm?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: Oh, good idea.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: Here’s another idea. How about I call?
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: And hear your voice?
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: See me too, if you like.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: . . .
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: You keep typing and deleting . . .
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: It’s easier chatting like this. The written word is freeing. I don’t feel so nervous.
 
 * * *
 
 Henry: I do enjoy the epistolary form.
 
 * * *
 
 Cameron: In that case, write me a letter: Cameron17Morland @gmail.com
 
 * * *
 
 (Ten minutes later)
 
 * * *
 
 To: Cameron17Morland @gmail.com
 
 From: Henrybatilney @gmail.com
 
 Dear Cameron,
 
 Letter writing is a lost art form that I feel better reading than attempting, but I’ll give it a go. I have no doubt your reply will be much better than mine. At least in content. Though there might be three ways I have an advantage.
 
 The ability to keep things short and to the point.
 
 Excellent grammar.
 
 This neat font I downloaded that gives any poor text an air of sophistication.
 
 I have sudden appreciation for what I routinely put my students through. It’s so much easier to critique than to produce, and I’ll have a kinder eye moving forward.
 
 It might be useful to orient this correspondence around a theme. Do you have any ideas?