“Hey, quaranteens! No kissing!”

Flora and I pull apart from each other. We didn’t notice Joey suiting up and walking into the antechamber, and now he’s in our room. But he’s got that same look he always seems to have on his face. Smug. Like he knows he’s better than me. It’s a look I’ve seen from other guys my entire life.

Flora giggles, and her cheeks are flushed.

“I heard your fever came back,” Joey says. “Can you sit back on your bed? Do you need help?” He walks over to her and puts his hand on her arm, the same arm I was just holding.

“She’s fine,” I say before I can stop myself.

“Oh, you’re a doctor now, Romeo?” Joey says. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“I am fine,” Flora says. But she lets him guide her to her bed, and she sits down.

Joey sees me watching, gives me a dirty look, and pulls the curtain closed. He’s talking to her, and for once I can’t hear what he’s saying. I hear the thermometer beep.

Flora anxiously says, “What is it?”

“Still 100.5. Not terrible. But definitely a fever. And remember: If it gets up to 101.5, it’s time for isolation. Now, we need to talk about how this happened, which means I need to know more about who you were hanging out with in the Dominican Republic. If this is something you got there, or if it’s from the gentleman on the plane.” I swear he sounds excited. Delighted, even.

I look at my phone. All the notifications I’m getting from the picture that Kelsey posted. She posted another one of just herself in her hazmat suit, with the caption, On the way back from visiting #myquaranteen.

My. I’ve never been anyone’s my.

I look at the picture of us again. More comments: aww, u look so happy with him, you 2 are such a cute couple. Comments that even last week would have made my entire life. But that was before Flora. Flora, who cried against my chest—whose arms I held.

I scroll through, read more comments: cute.

And then: I think the #quaranteens are a cuter couple.

I want to see a picture of the #quaranteens together.

I feel that same niggling sense of guilt. Maybe Kelsey won’t see them? But I can’t really think about that now. Because Flora might be sick.

“I barely left my dad’s place—my dad and Goldy’s place.” Flora sounds embarrassed. “I mean, it rained a lot.”

“And what do your dad and Goldy do for a living? Are they out in the general population a lot, interacting with lots of people?”

Flora laughs. “Ha, Goldy doesn’t work. She doesn’t leave the house unless she’s getting her hair or nails done.” She pauses. “But she’s not a bad person. She loves my dad. He loves her.” But I don’t think she’s talking to Joey anymore. I think she’s talking to herself, convincing herself.

“Okay, got it. Sounds like a run-of-the-mill stepmom to me.”

“Yeah. No. She’s not. She’s different. I think.” Flora sounds tired again.

“Doesn’t matter from a medical perspective,” Joey says. He’s probably trying to make a joke, but it also sounds like he’s brushing her off.

“Well, it matters from a person perspective. From a stepdaughter perspective,” Flora insists.

“Whatever you say. So, tell me about your pops. What’s his deal with work?”

“He works from home. His company is based in the States. He leaves the house even less than Goldy.”

“And sounds like a run-of-the-mill midlife crisis dad to me.”

“Hey! That’s my dad!”

“Hey! I’m just teasing. Trying to take your mind off things.” Joey’s voice sounds kinder again.

“Do they have lots of visitors? Lots of wild parties?”

“Nah, they keep to themselves. Someone cleans their house, but she was on vacation while I was there.”

“Hmm, okay. And from my understanding, they haven’t shown any symptoms yet.”

“They didn’t mention anything when I talked to them.”

Joey sounds surprised. “No, I mean, someone from our medical staff is in touch with them too.”

“Really?” Now Flora sounds surprised.

“Yeah. We can’t exactly just let this run its course.”

“They didn’t tell me they were talking to doctors.”

“Oh, yeah, Silver, or whatever her name is, said not to tell you unless it came up, that you had enough to worry about. That she just wants you to get better.”

“But I’m not actually sick. Or wasn’t actually sick.” She still sounds tired, but she also sounds … happy? I knew Goldy wasn’t all bad.

They keep talking, and I keep thinking how I want him to leave. How I want to be the one to take care of her. He says, “Now, you buzz if you need anything. Let’s see what happens with this fever. And no kissing Romeo!”

Joey opens the curtain, and he’s got the smug look on his face again. I give him a dirty look, but he just rolls his eyes at me as he jabs the thermometer in my mouth and puts the cuff on my arm. The thermometer beeps; he looks at it and jots something down on his clipboard.

“Can you tell me what it was, please?”

I can tell that he loves that I’m asking. “What what was?” he says sweetly.

“My temperature,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Why? Worried you might be sick?”

“Oliver’s not sick, is he?” Flora asks. She sounds so tired.

Joey calls over, “Don’t worry about him. Just worry about getting better.”

“I am going to worry about him.”

Now I give Joey a smug look.

“It’s normal,” Joey says. Then, under his breath, “Maybe the only normal thing about him.”

“What was that last part?” Flora asks.

“Nothing, just teasing our little Romeo.” He nudges me again, harder than he needs to, like always.

Joey leaves, and soon my mom and Peg are back. I listen to the worry in Flora’s mom’s voice and try to pretend that everything is okay.