Page 95 of In Somnis

“It’s a work in progress.” I cross my arms, fighting a smile. “And for the record, I can form sentences around her. They’re just not good sentences.”

“Oh, well, as long as they’re bad sentences, that’s fine then.”

“Exactly. See? You get it. We’re both hopeless. At least we have that in common.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I guess we do.”

Lennon takes a sip from her ice water, then glances toward the dining room. “So… what is the plan then?”

“Hmm?”

“With Sydney. What are you going to do about it? You can’t pine from afar forever.”

“Since when are we talking about me?”

“Since you started teasing me about Paul. Come on. Don’t you at least want to know what it’s like to kiss her?”

“I already know what it’s like to kiss her.”

Lennon’s eyes go wide. “What?”

I scrub a hand over my face, regretting my admission. “Forget I said that.”

“Absolutely not. Try again. Slowly.” She sets down her tumbler and gives me her complete attention. “Explain.”

I exhale and lean back against the prep table. “Almost a year ago, Mabel let me throw a Halloween party here. Also, my birthday. People got drunk, I got drunk, and somehow Sydney and I…” I gesture vaguely. “You know.”

“No, I don’t know. Use your words.”

“We hooked up,” I say flatly. “Happy?”

Her mouth falls open. “You… wait. You slept with her?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Unfortunately?” Rather than being confused, as I would expect, she appears delighted by this. “Oh, this is so much better than I thought. Tell me everything.”

“There’s not much to tell. I was drunk, it was Halloween, there were fake cobwebs involved⁠—”

“Fake cobwebs?”

“Don’t ask.” I run a hand through my hair. “Look, all I remember is that it was… good? I think. Everything’s kind of a blur, but I have these flashes of her saying I felt good. I was probably too drunk to realize she was just being nice⁠—”

“Or she meant it,” Lennon interrupts.

“She didn’t mean it,” I say. “Because the next day, she acted as if it never happened. Full factory reset. Ice queen mode activated.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” I cross my arms. “And I’ve tried everything since. Jokes, small talk, I even bought her coffee once. Nothing. She just gets colder, and I get more pathetic.”

Lennon’s smile does something caught between sympathy and amusement. “Aw. Poor baby.”

“I even tried the casual doorframe lean,” I admit. “You know, like mysterious hot guys do in movies?”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Turns out, when you’re six-seven, you can’t lean in doorways. You have to duck. I gave myself a minor concussion.”