“What was he like? Did he give up anything about whether there’ll be a season three? Tell me everything,” said Ros.

“He was nice,” I said. “He showed me pictures of his cats.”

There was quiet. I’d thought I had more to say on the subject when I arrived at the Lily Pad, though now, hearing Ros’s news, I couldn’t think of anything more. I felt weirdly like I was moving through glue: It was hard to remember and recap our interaction when I was so fixated on Ros’s working with Jess Orlando.

“That’s all that happened?” said Ros. “You’re so quiet. Did something weird happen with you guys again?”

I laughed, trying to defuse the awkwardness. “Nope, no. Nothing like that.”

“Are you going to eat?” said Touch.

He was right: I’d been so preoccupied and feeling so ill over the Hidden Fern news that I hadn’t even taken a bite of my burger. This delicious Ros-and-Touch-made concoction had been growing cold on my plate while I quibbled over plants and chore wheels.

“Cheers,” I said, and raised it to my mouth.

It was delicious, but as a burger, it completely fell apart. It crumbled the second I took a bite, and as I watched the breakdown all across my plate, I couldn’t help it: I gave a little wail of distress.

“Hey,” said Ros. “What’s the matter? Are you homesick again?”

“No,” I said miserably. “I’m just worried that we’ll all get so busy we’ll never see each other again.”

“Celia, I think you’re being a little dramatic,” said Ros.

“We live together,” said Touchstone.

“Agree,” said Ros. “That’ll never happen.”

But in spite of everyone’s reassurances, I could already feel Ros drifting away into a different world, one made of plants and punches and poems.

The Story of Ros, Part II

On my first day, Jess teaches me the names of things. The flowers: ranunculus, calla lily, hydrangea. The plants: monstera, calathea, pothos. Me: totally and completely in love, unable to recall anything she’s just taught me. It’s the kind of crush that feels like being devoured. She looks at me and gobbles up my limbs, leaves me half-eaten and wanting more.

On my second day, Jess compliments me on my chain. Thank you, I say, and one more time, my body erupts in flames. I am a pile of ashes on the floor. At the end of the day, I’ll be swept up and tossed out with the dirt.