Page 134 of Hello Stranger

“I just don’t understand how this piece is even here.”

“Maybe they notified the wrong artist?”

“It’s just insulting, more than anything.”

“It kind of makes me angry.”

“What a waste of a Top Ten spot.”

“Too bad we can’t give negative points.”

“Isn’t it?”

At that, I’d had enough. I pressed the toilet handle with my shoe and held it there.

Mercifully, the blast of the industrial flush was loud enough to startle them away.

In the silence that followed, I washed my hands, smoothed my hair in the mirror, smiled encouragingly at my unintelligible face, stood up straight like how I imagined a person with some remaining human dignity would, and walked back out to my post.

Just two soul-draining hours to go…

It was okay. It was fine. What was it Joe had said about sitting for the portrait?“Trigonometry is hard. Climbing El Capitan is hard. Landing on the beaches of Normandy is hard.”All I had to do was stand here—and keep standing here—until my alarm went off.

And then I could go home. And brainstorm a new life’s dream.

This was the big break I’d been working toward for over a decade. This was the moment I’d been waiting for—dreaming of. This was the life I’d chosen. This was a competition that if the past five weeks hadn’t happened, I’d be crushing right now. This was a showcase moment for the thing I was best at in my entire life… Just not anymore.

Could I have used at least one person there with me in that moment?

Yes.

And would I have even minded if it was Lucinda?

Not at all.

But I got fully stood up. By everyone. Even though my dad’s secretary had put it on his calendar and Lucinda had interrupted my last—only—night with Joe to give me that news. Even though I’d beendreading them coming ever since I found out. Even though they were the last people I ever would’ve chosen.

I was out of choices.

As time wore on and the smile I’d stapled to my face quivered more and more, I found myself hoping for someone, anyone, to show up—and, if I’m honest… imagining how great it would be if that someone could be Joe.

It wasn’t impossible, was it?

Crazier things had happened, right?

If nothing else, imagining it gave me a nice distraction. Joe: Having an epiphany in line at the airport, abandoning his suitcase, hailing a cab, but then hitting too much traffic, sprinting the final blocks here only to burst through the doors and shove past elderly art critics to my dark corner like it was the only place he’d ever wanted to be… and then breathlessly begging my forgiveness while declaring his undying love—thereby validating my entire existence for everyone here, including me.

Maybe I should pop out for some air freshener.

Thanks a lot, Lysander.

Anyway. I knew it was impossible. Joe had already refused to be my anybody.

But be careful what you hope for.

I did get an anybody—at last, two hours in…

But it was Parker.

---