Part of me wants to laugh listening to Oliver and Kelsey. He’s adorably nervous with her. I know I’ve never made any guy that nervous before, even Oliver. The other part of me wants to throw up.

The curtain opens, and I guess Kelsey’s visiting hour is over. Though I look at the clock on the wall and see there is still another half hour left. Kelsey is beaming at Oliver, and his face is bright red.

“Leaving already?” I say in a voice I don’t recognize.

“Yeah, I want to grab some food. Ugh, I had the worst omelet this morning at a diner. I’ll see you at the next visiting hour before bed!”

“Yep!” I say, still in the weird voice.

“Um, can you take a picture of me? I can’t use my phone with these darn gloves!” I don’t know why she’s asking me and not Oliver, but she hands the phone to me gingerly, like she’s afraid of breaking me. I think she wants a picture with Oliver, but she doesn’t make a move to get any closer to him. She’s got her hand on her hip, head cocked, and I’ll give her credit, she does look cute in a hazmat suit. I look at Oliver, and I can tell from the look on his face that he’s thinking the same thing.

I wait until she blinks and snap a picture.

I hold the phone up for her, and she looks at the picture. “Oh! I’m blinking! Can you take another? Maybe take a few this time, just to be on the safe side.”

“Yep!” I click away, and I hate how photogenic she is. “Do you want one with Oliver?” I ask half-heartedly. Oliver blushes as Kelsey looks at him.

“Yes, of course!” She swings her arm over Oliver’s waist easily, and I hope he doesn’t pass out from the excitement.

I snap a few pictures. They look like a couple. I remind myself that this is what I want, that this is what Oliver wants. And it’s what I promised him. I owe him.

I show Kelsey the pictures, and she squeals. “Posting this immediately! Hashtag quaranteen!”

Hearing her use the hashtag I came up with makes me want to listen to a punk song and punch walls again. Instead I smile and say, “It’s trending!”

Kelsey says, “Oh, I know! I practically have a celebrity boyfriend!”

“Boyfriend?” Oliver squeaks.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” Kelsey scoffs.

“Right, of course.” Oliver looks confused.

I point to my eyes, then to Kelsey, and Oliver stares at her, trying to look her in the eyes, but Kelsey has her head down on her way out of the room. Oliver helplessly shrugs at me just as Kelsey turns around again, about to walk through the antechamber.

“I’ll see you this evening. Will anyone else be here then?”

“My mom,” Oliver says, the color draining from his face.

“Great! I can’t wait to meet her!”

“Yeah, me too,” Oliver says, though the expression on his face says otherwise.

Kelsey scoots out the antechamber, and a nurse is there showing her how to dispose of her hazmat suit. Oliver and I watch her take another quick selfie, then tap at her phone some more, and then she’s off.

“Well!” I say. “That was Kelsey.”

“It sure was,” he says.

A few minutes later, Patty arrives. She’s ranting to Oliver about how her cab driver got lost, which is so ridiculous given the technology today, when my mom shows up. She looks a little more refreshed than last time I saw her. She apologizes for being late, says she was on the phone with my uncle.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, alarmed.

“It is. Randy keeps thinking he’s sick too, keeps wanting to get his temperature taken. I never should have told him that’s what they’re doing to you in the hospital.”

I miss my cousin.

“Can I meet Oliver?” she says quietly.

“Shh! Mom!” But Patty drones on, and if Oliver has heard my mom, I have no way of knowing.

“What! I want to meet the boy who you kissed for the first time.”

“Mom!” I say louder.

“It wasn’t your first kiss?”

“MOM!”

“I’m your mother! We talk about these things,” she whispers.

She’s right, we do. Well, we usually do anyway. She knew about my crush on Damon Cook, about how he sat behind me in biology class, about how sometimes if he leaned forward I felt his breath on the back of my neck. I used to worry that he could see the goose bumps on my arms. But with Oliver it’s different. And I don’t have a crush on him. I’m helping him win the girl he has a crush on.

“It’s … complicated,” I finally whisper back.

She looks at me, waiting for me to elaborate.

“I’ll explain when he’s not two feet away from me!” I hiss.

“Fair enough,” she whispers. “So, as I was saying, I want to meet your roommate,” she says, louder.

Patty is oblivious, though, talking to Oliver about another neighbor in their building, and how she counts how many times a day her neighbors flush the toilet.

My mom tries again. “Flora, can you introduce me to Oliver?”

Patty doesn’t stop talking.

“This is silly.” My mom opens the curtain to reveal Patty and a bored Oliver.

Both look surprised, but Patty also looks annoyed. “Visiting hour isn’t over yet,” she says.

“What? No, I’m not a nurse or a doctor. I’m Peg, Flora’s mom.”

Patty’s face is blank for a second, and then she looks at me. “Oh, right, how silly of me not to make the connection! You both have the same beautiful hair. Patty, nice to meet you.”

But my mom is looking past her, at Oliver. “Oliver, it’s so nice to meet you.”

Oliver hops out of bed, brushes off his hands, and shakes my mom’s hand. “It’s really nice to meet you too,” he says quietly.

“And you two have the same beautiful eyes,” my mom says.

Oliver blushes. He looks up at me, and I suddenly really want to be alone with him. Like actually alone. Not in a hospital room with doctors watching over us constantly, where we seem to have an endless stream of visitors. Actually alone. Somewhere I could talk to him without worrying about someone barging in. It’s such a strong urge I almost grab his hand and pull him out of the room with me.

I make myself look away from him for a second, but he’s still looking at me. I don’t believe in telepathy or mind reading or anything like that, but I swear he’s thinking the exact same thing as me. As our moms talk about where they grew up in Brooklyn, we keep looking at each other, wanting to run away and be alone together.

Though at this moment, gazing into those cool-breeze eyes, I feel like we already are.