The Real

The bubbles started going, and I knew he was laughing because his answering emoji told me so.

Cameron: Poor boot. Are you getting your fortune told?

Me: Nope, don’t believe in it.

While waiting for his reply, I glanced at the picture above the TV. It was an old movie poster with a prominent moon and stars in darkening blue above the title The Man in the Moon. I briefly thought of how astrology and astronomy were both based on numbers or the use of. I thought it ironic that if mathematicians had a religion, it would be either of those.

Cameron: There are numbers in the moon and stars.

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. It was as if he were in the room.

Me: Wow.

Cameron: What?

Me: Just a lot of strange coincidences in the last few minutes.

Cameron: Are they coincidences?

Me: Don’t you start. I told Bree from a scientist’s point of view that love was a chemical reaction and that people get off on the high of it and she got pissed.

Cameron: You make me high.

Maybe I was still a little cynical, but the man had an arsenal of woo and was tearing down any argument I held day by day. Whatever the science was behind the way I felt for him didn’t matter. All that really mattered was that he made me high and in the most organic way. Time would tell if we would last, but I was enjoying the high.

Bree appeared from the room minutes later with a smile.

“Ready?”

I smiled back. “I think I am.”

“Kat, you in here?” I asked as I walked into the bathroom. “I hate to bother you, but everyone is seated at the meeting.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was unsteady. “I’ll be right there.”

She opened the stall door, her face pale, her forehead covered in sweat.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s the sushi I ate last night. I think I got a touch of food poisoning. And my head is killing me.”

“Oh no. We can reschedule,” I offered, knowing we would be hard-pressed to do so.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, running the water and soaping her hands. “I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” I said, turning on my heel.

“Is there something you want to say to me?” she asked.

“Pardon?”

“I said”—she turned from the counter and crossed her arms in front of her—“it looks like there is something on your mind. Let’s hear it.”

She clearly had some sort of confrontation in mind as her dark blue gaze scoured my appearance like I was beneath her.

I shook my head. “Nope, just waiting to start this meeting.”

“Sure? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like it.”