domino games, I sit on my bed. I’m stuffed with choices, too, pulled in too many ways. I trace the miniature colored pencil drawing of the Owl and Crow Inn, Gordon’s birthday gift.
FaceTime pings from my laptop and the name flashing on the screen sinks into my stomach. But I’m ready. I accept the call.
Stefanie stares at me from across the world. “Lila.” Her voice is small and I barely recognize this girl with a straw hat and no makeup.
“Hi.” How do we start? What do we do?
“I’m sorry about—” comes out of my mouth right when she says, “I’m sorry I—”
We both laugh shakily and I motion for her to go first.
“I’ve had service for a few weeks now, since my e-mail. But you went to England and I thought you’d be busy… and I was a little scared to call, to be honest.” I nod and she says, “I hate the way we left things. I didn’t get to explain. Lila, for years all I did was watch you change entire rooms with your food.”
“Stef—”
“No, listen. You would bring over croquetas or your flan, and people would just smile. They’d forget their problems or stress for a little while. And I’ve always thought that was your gift. Your magic.”
My chin crumples. But I keep listening.
Stef glances down then back at me again. “I just wanted my own magic too, separate from us together. I wanted to change rooms and help people. And I didn’t want to wait anymore. I’ll go back to school, but later. I didn’t know how to tell you—”
I hold out my palm. “Wait. I wasn’t acting like the kind of friend you could tell. So I’m sorry. Sorry I made you run all those miles and tried to plan your life.”
Her face softens. “We both messed up.”
“Yeah we did.” I breathe in then out. “Are you happy?”
Her nod comes quickly. “So happy.”
She tells me about Africa and the work she’s doing—saving lives, changing them. Her face gleams and animates well enough, but she doesn’t go deep into adventures.
“I’m finally used to the climate and no A/C.”
“When supplies are brought in, we fight over the dark chocolate bars.”
“Hats and long-sleeved white tees are my friend.”
Stefanie summarizes Ghana and the people and the skills she’s learning as if she’s reading her new life off a glossy travel brochure. My friend is holding back.
I don’t know what to do with this. I shift restless legs, then burrow under my comforter. I can’t get comfortable so I take my turn and talk about England. Only, talking about England is like knifing my heart from my chest. Held in front me, it drones a steady metronome beat, keeping me alive well enough. But this heart ticking between my body and Stef’s face on the monitor is cooler and paler than hearts should ever be.
So I can’t go deep. I hold back too and remain like the last-minute toppings of things. My stories are dusted powdered sugar and mango glaze. I can’t tell my friend about the thick, bittersweet fillings of castles and vanilla black tea, or the rich, spongy cake of new friends and songs. I can’t talk about the motorbike wind and green and stone I baked into crusty bread and into the baker. Me.
“It rains so much. Like more than Miami.”
“You’d really love the accents. They’re always apologizing for everything.”
“It’s so old. There can be a petrol station right next to a five-hundred-year-old building.”
Stef wrinkles her nose. “Since when do you say petrol?”
Petrol—I didn’t even notice. Telling her why I brought so much of another country back into mine doesn’t work. Neither does my mouth when I try to tell her about Orion. Nothing. Nada.
I’m 100 percent unable to tell the girl who cried for hours with me over Andrés a single word about Orion. The way we were in England is mine; I’m not sharing. I can’t even say his name or that I’m holding his sweater on my lap because if I do, I’ll knife through all the rest of me. I have to lock him inside to keep myself together.
But isn’t Stef my best friend? And then, what if there’s an African Orion, or a dozen other stories beyond chocolate bars and straw hats that she’s not telling me?
If this is true, it’s okay. And because it’s so okay, I realize we aren’t the same and different in a new-old friendship. We are just different now.
So this is what we do when our talking