Page 59 of Nights Without Night
There’s a long moment of silence, a little furrow between his brows, but I let it be.
“I met up with that guy you went to see. Mansur.” He opens an eye, peeking at me. “I felt like he already knew a bit about me,” he says, but it’s not accusatory.
“Yeah. I needed the help,” I admit. He closes his eyes again.
“Yeah…”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Yeah. I’d thought it’d be harder with him already knowing some stuff, and not knowing how much stuff he knew, but he told me everything you’d told him about me and it kind of helped. I could just confirm or deny and then just…elaborate. I don’t think I would have told him so much if I’d had to say it all from scratch myself, you know? Not that I told him everything, obviously, but it was…”
“A start.”
“Yeah. A start.”
“Did you like him? I’ve read that the therapeutic relationship is the most important part-”
“Oh my God,” he laughs. “I’m going to disable Google off your phone,” he says. I mock-gasp.
“How dare you threaten Google, my one true God?”
“Those comments are gonna bite you in the ass when we live in a world where we can sell Google space in our heads for ads and they start selling thought data to third-party members.”
“Okay, Black Mirror, calm yourself down…How much is Google paying for brain space exactly? Because there’s this new drawing tablet I want and…”
Isadoro laughs, shaking his head. “I’m not letting you sell brain space to Google.”
“Oh, you’re notlettingme? You’re notlettingme sell brain space to Google? Team Daddy has prohibited all selling of thought space. Well, you’re not the boss of me, Mr. Puss-Filled Cyst, so stuff that into your goofy-looking beret.”
“Hey! We all know those berets look ridiculous, but we’re not supposed to say anything!” Isadoro admonishes.
“Oh my God…they are so bad,” I laugh.
“Shush! Okay, I don’t insult Google, you don’t insult the berets. Deal?”
“Deal. You’re going to lose.”
“It isn’t a competition, it’s a deal. No one is supposed to lose.”
“You’re still gonna lose, and I’m suing you upon breach of contract.”
Isadoro slumps back again, laughing this time. His hand is wrapped around mine.
“So…it went okay?” I ask. Isadoro looks at me.
“Yeah. I don’t know about the…group thing.”
“Maybe that can be a goal to move towards,” I say. Isadoro’s lips quirk up.
“That’s what Mansur said.”
“Well, there you go. Group stuff is usually a lot worse in your head anyway. Once you connect with those people, it’ll mean more than you were ever scared of it,” I say.
“That barely made sense, but I got your point,” he replies.
“Puss-filled cyst,” I mouth at him. He snorts. “So, you’re going again?” I ask. Isadoro nods.
“Yeah,” he says. We leave it at that.
