Solitaire

I GET HOME. Everything normal happens. I say hello to Nick and Charlie. I turn on my laptop. I put a film on. And then I do something weird.

I call Michael.

16:49 p.m.

Outgoing Call

M: Hello?

T: Hi. It’s Tori.

M: Tori? Really? You called me again? That’s twice in a fortnight. You do not strike me as one who enjoys making phone calls.

T: Believe me. I’m not.

M:

T: I overreacted. I’m the one who has to say sorry. I called to say sorry.

M:

T:

M: I’m sorry too. I don’t think you’re a psychopath.

T: Don’t you? It’s a valid assumption.

M: I don’t even know why we need to apologize to each other. I can’t even remember what we’re arguing about. I don’t even think we did argue.

T: Are you in denial?

M: Are you?

T: What does that mean?

M: I don’t know.

T: I’m just sorry I snapped at you.

M:

T: I do want to be friends with you. Can . . . can we . . .

M: We’re already friends, Tori. You don’t need to ask. We’re already friends.

T:

M: Is Charlie all right?

T: He’s all right.

M: Are you all right?

T: I’m fine.

M:

T:

M: I see Becky and Ben are pretty snug together.

T: Oh yeah, they’re practically conjoined. She’s really happy.

M: Are you happy?

T: What?

M: Are you happy?

T: Yeah, I’m happy for her. I’m happy for her. She’s my best friend. I’m really happy for her.

M: That’s not what I asked.

T: I don’t get it.

M:

T:

M: Will you still come to the Solitaire meet-up with me on Saturday?

T:

M: I don’t want to go alone.

T: Yeah.

M: You’ll come?

T: Yes.

M:

T: Why can I hear wind? Where are you?

M: I’m at the rink.

T: The ice rink?

M: Do you know any other rinks?

T: You’re on the phone and skating at the same time.

M: Men can multitask too, you know. Where are you?

T: Obviously at home.

M: Such a loser.

T: What’s that music that’s playing?

M:

T: That’s film music, isn’t it?

M: Is it?

T: It’s from Gladiator. It’s called “Now We Are Free.”

M:

T:

M: Your film knowledge is simply magical.

T: Magical?

M: You’re magical, Tori.

T: You’re the one who can ice-skate. That’s the closest thing to flying a human can do without a vehicle.

M:

T: You can fly, Michael.

M:

T: What?

M: I can fly.

T: You can fly.

M: No one’s ever . . .

T:

M: I’d better meet you at Hogwarts then.

T: Or Neverland.

M: Or both.

T: Or both.