“Old news,” I say. “I found out this morning from Celine.”

“Fine. Ruin my moment. Let’s move on. Tell me about this dinner.”

“Not much to tell. We went out to eat.”

“We who?”

“The three of us. Me, Ethan and Celine.”

“OK. OK. So he’s not Ethan Delphy anymore. We’re on a first-name basis.”

“We have to be. Did you forget why I’m here?”

“Judging by the excitement in your voice, I wonder if you forgot why you’re there.”

“That’s not funny. I’ll admit he’s not as bad as I thought he was, but nothing’s really changed. He’s still a means to an end. He’s my ticket to Max,” I say. I think my tone must be a bit edgy because Alisa immediately says she was just teasing me.

“I know you are. It’s just that this thing is hard enough as it is. It’s complicated and I’m doing a lot of lying and pretending. I don’t like it, and I hope it will be over soon.”

“I know.”

“He asked me to go with him to an off-Broadway show in San Francisco tomorrow. I guess he needs to go, and it will look weird if he shows up alone. Either way, I’m doing it as a favor and hope he will return it. We did talk about Max today.”

“You did? Why did you wait so long to tell me? What did he say?”

“He offered to introduce us.”

“Wow. Problem solved then. When?”

“He didn’t say; I plan on pushing him on it tomorrow. I’m very close, Alisa, I know it.”

“Good for you. Going for what you want. I’ve always wanted to see this side of you.”

Her words make me both sad and happy. I am feeling a change in myself lately, and she confirmed it. But it’s sad also because I’m almost thirty; Alisa has known me since I was nineteen, and it’s only now that she’s seeing me as someone who fights for what she wants.

“You have to call me tomorrow and let me know how it went, OK? By the way, I got the book and already mailed it. And guess what? She sent me two copies, so tonight I’m reading it.”

After we hang up, I try to sleep, but I can’t. I’m thinking about tomorrow, how the conversation will go. I keep hearing about me breaking Max’s heart, making me question how much of this book is fiction. Or worse, how much of what Max told him is true.

I see Ethan’s books by the window. I can’t quite figure him out. The sarcasm, the occasional raised eyebrow, and the slight smile, plus a certain kind of snob-like tone he picks up from time to time annoy me. At the same time, he’s friendly, funny, and down to earth. There are moments when he looks into my eyes, and I feel confused about everything he just said.

I get out of bed, grab his first book, Need No Words, and start reading. If his writing is in any way similar to him in real life, it’ll confuse me no end. But maybe it’ll help me understand why he is the way he is. Or why I am the way I am around him.