31

Her hair was in my face when I woke up. I was still sitting in bed and she was leaning against me, her hair swirling over my shoulder, right into my mouth. I coughed, but she didn’t move. I had never woken up next to another person and it was a strange sensation. I was hot from her proximity and my bed was a little too small. I didn’t move, so I wouldn’t wake her up. I just sat there for a moment, watching the room slowly brighten in the half-light of morning.

She adjusted herself in bed and put an arm around me. I looked down at it. A skinny arm with little blond hairs all smoothed in one direction. Was she actually doing it on purpose? No, I reasoned, she was not. She was obviously still asleep. She could be dreaming of another guy right now. Or a really big gerbil. I gently lifted her arm and put it at her side. Of course, I missed it when it was gone.

“Did you stay here all night?” she said, in a fog of sleep.

“I didn’t mean to,” I said.

Her eyes were still closed.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It was nice.”

Then she lifted her arm and put it back around me. I felt my palms getting damp. I got up a little too fast and walked across the room.

“Whoa,” she said, rolling over. “What’s the deal man?”

I was really thirsty all of a sudden. I picked up a bottle of warm soda from my desk. I took a swig. It was even sweeter warm, but I was thirsty, so I kept drinking. When I was done, I looked across the room and found her watching me.

“I just can’t,” I said. “Do . . . that.”

“Do what?” she said.

She looked genuinely confused.

“Touching,” I said.

No sound from her.

“You made yourself clear last night, okay?” I said. “And I just need some time to kind of realign. . . .”

“Realign? What am I, a car?”

“To just stop thinking about you in a certain way, so I can . . .”

“So you can, what?”

The soda wasn’t sitting well in my stomach.

“Just don’t pretend!” I said, louder than I wanted to.

The room, of course, went quiet.

“Don’t pretend that you’re attracted to me if you’re not! Because you’re not. I get it. That’s okay. That’s how things are. Just don’t pretend. Because it hurts. And it’s mean. And it’s not okay.”

“I barely touched you,” she said quietly.

“Well, don’t,” I said. “Just . . . don’t barely touch me.”

I wondered suddenly if my mom was awake. I couldn’t hear anything outside the door. I stared toward the window where I could see a perimeter of sun around the pulled shade. I had no idea what time it was. I felt really sick now, like my stomach had shrunk to the size of a pea. All my muscles were tense. And the look on Raina’s face was awful. Like yet another person had disappointed her.

“Look, I should probably go back to the couch,” I said. “You know, so my mom doesn’t think . . .”

I started toward the door, but I didn’t make it far before she spoke again.

“I talked to my agent yesterday,” she said.

I stopped. But it took me a second to get on the same page.

“Why?” I asked.

“My replacement isn’t working.”

“You mean they. . .”

“Want me to come back. To finish the second film.”

I felt a little short of breath.

“I see,” I said.

It was all I could say before a buzz came from my dresser. We both looked over. My phone.

“But . . .” I said.

And nothing else came out. The phone kept buzzing, stuttering closer to the edge. Raina said nothing. I wanted to walk out of the room, but I couldn’t do it. I also wanted to ask more questions. Couldn’t do that either. I jumped over and caught my phone right before it dropped.

“Hello,” I said, after scooping it up to my ear. “Hello. Hi.”

“Is this Ethan?” asked an upbeat voice.

“I think so,” I said.

I was still staring at Raina.

“Well, this is the office of the president,” said the voice.

“Who?” I said.

“Dan Javitz, University of Minnesota president. This is his assistant.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. I understand. Go on.”

She cleared her throat. She probably wasn’t used to being interrupted.

“The president would like to meet with you,” she said. “Can you be here in an hour?”