Chapter 9 #2
After an hour, my legs are on fire as I slow to a walk, catching my breath.
I wish we’d booked some kind of promo activity for this evening, which otherwise stretches before me, way too empty.
Maybe I can catch up with Maral and Shanthi at the bridge, or do some other touristy thing that will occupy my body and mind.
My phone rings and I all but drop it in my haste to see who’s calling—Mom.
I worry my lip for a moment, the fire in my muscles growing more acute, before sending her to voicemail.
I can’t trust myself to be solicitous right now, nor to magic-wand the emotions threatening to surface as expertly as I’d like.
I’ll call her later when my armor is stronger.
A couple of blocks from the hotel, I round a corner and see a man who’s a dead ringer for Ryan walking side by side with a tall, lithe blond woman.
They’re each carrying a coffee and laughing over some shared joke I’m too far away to hear.
I’m sure it’s not Ryan for that reason alone—I’ve never seen him so physically at ease, almost…
joyful. I don’t even think that state exists in his repertoire.
But as he turns my way, our eyes lock, and even from twenty feet away I feel the weight of his gaze right down to my toes.
Yup. That’s Ryan.
And he’s with a beautiful young woman who is…beautiful and young. Like, really young. She doesn’t look like a teenager or anything, but early twenties at the most.
I steady my breathing. That’s fine. Who he chooses to date is totally his prerogative. Even if she looks like she’s on a ticking clock to be dumped by Leo DiCaprio.
Just smile, say hello, and pass them by. Let them continue their date in peace. Then go back to your room, wash this hog sweat off yourself, crawl into a hole, and disappear forever.
But they have the audacity to stop, the clearly hilarious joke lingering in Ryan’s smile. I wish it would stop being so devastating, but no such luck.
“Ana,” he says.
“Hi-lo,” I say inelegantly. “Hi, hello. That was supposed to be both. Of those. But came out as a fun li’l mash-up.” Stop talking.
He looks good. Really good. His dark hair shines gold in the sun, his eyes lit up. A relaxed set to his normally rigid shoulders. Fresh and rested and happy.
Which only reminds me that I’m sweating balls. I’m not normally self-conscious about how I look, but can’t help feeling like a swamp creature next to his ethereal date. “I went for a run,” I say needlessly.
“Oh, these hills are killer!” says the divine being. “When I first moved here I could never run outside. The only plus side is that it never snows or gets icy. Which is amazing!”
“That is amazing,” I say, clocking that she’s also friendly. “I don’t need any help breaking my neck. My clumsiness makes a valiant enough effort.”
She laughs loudly, palming Ryan’s triceps as if to draw him into the joke. The move shows such a casual comfort with his body that an arctic ripple crawls down my esophagus. He returns her joviality with an indulgent smile, and then looks back to me.
His gaze travels to my neck, where stray hairs that have fallen out of my ponytail cling to my skin. His throat bobs, and he stands up straighter.
A beat passes before his date finally says, “Well, if he’s not going to do the honors, I guess I’ll introduce myself! I’m Celine.”
And there it is. The woman of emoji fame.
“Ana,” I say, shaking her outstretched palm, realizing too late that mine’s a clammy fish. “Shit, sorry.”
“Oh my god, don’t worry about it! I’m actually a high-key fan. I’d say I rival him, but that might be impossible.” She smiles coyly at Ryan. “My roommates and I play your videos to fire up before exams.”
A college student. I should have known. I meet so many of them that you’d think I could recognize their shared identifiers a mile away. Jeans, hoodie, Chucks, a sling bag. Long straight hair, natural dewy blush on her smooth, luminous skin.
“Hope you’re passing,” I say. “Otherwise, I recommend Beyoncé.”
Another laugh bubbles out of her, a sweet tinkling sound that makes her that much more endearing. I totally understand what Ryan sees in her—she’s a beam of light, the kind of person who just feels good to be around.
“I’m so excited that you have a book out now too. I asked Ry to bring me a copy, but he totally flaked.” She smacks his shoulder playfully.
Ry, who has been as silent as a sentry, finally speaks. “I’ll send you one as soon as I get back to the office.”
Celine rolls her eyes at me, like, Can you believe this guy? “I’m so glad he was able to come on the tour with you, otherwise it would have been Thanksgiving before we saw each other!”
Thanksgiving. They celebrate holidays together? I feel sick.
“It was nice to meet you,” I say, my manners making an appearance at last. “I’m going to…go.”
“Wait!” Celine cries, looking anxiously at Ry. “Um, we’re about to go for lunch. Please—we’d love for you to join us.”
I can’t think of a less appetizing way to spend lunch than to third-wheel with this angel and the man who’s had me tangled in horned knots for days.
And even though he shot her a look as soon as she said it, I can’t believe Ryan didn’t immediately shut down Celine’s request. Is he a total psycho?
Kissing me one night, meeting up with her days later, and then having the nerve to be cool with us all just sitting down for lunch together? Barf.
“No,” I say, “I couldn’t—”
“Oh!” she says. “I know you probably want to shower and change. I should have said, we don’t mind waiting! Take however long you need. We’ll just pop up to Ry’s room in the meantime.”
Double barf.
“No,” I blurt. “I insist. You two go—enjoy your date.”
A guffaw bursts out of her, loud enough to ring in my ears. She can barely catch her breath, bending over at the waist and clutching her stomach.
“Date,” Celine wheezes, as if the word is the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “Ew!”
I look from her to Ryan, alarmed, and see a dusting of pink on his cheeks. His expression shifts, from a dawning understanding to something that looks almost like anger.
“Ana,” he says, “Celine’s my sister.”