Circe C.

Ya estaba tardando en preguntar. Desde que su manager contactó con vos para agendar sesiones, todo el edificio comenzó a hablar sobre ello. Todos los empleados estaban acostumbrados a lidiar con famosos, pero parece ser que algunos son más especiales que otros.

—Sí. Toda la semana, parece.

El ascensor se vuelve a abrir y te despedís de Mati y las otras dos personas. La puerta de tu estudio está abierta cuando llegas. 

—Buen día, jefaza —te saluda Tomi desde el sofá.

—¿Qué onda? —preguntas, dejándote caer en la silla frente a la consola. Te sacas la gorra y acomodas el bolso en el suelo, repasando mentalmente lo que tenés que hacer hoy.

—¡Buenos días! Ya está seteada la sala —dice Sofi, tu mano derecha, con su voz animada. Entra con dos cafés y te alcanza uno—. Sala A, mic probado, auriculares nuevos, agua en su sitio.

—Sos divina Sofi— decís tras agradecer el café con un cabeceo. El aire del estudio huele a madera pulida y a cables recién conectados. Mientras tus asistentes de producción y vos se ponen al día del fin de semana, comenzas a organizar los elementos que van a usar. Tras unos minutos, con los auriculares puestos, una mano en el mouse y otra en el ecualizador, midiendo y revisando la lista de pistas que van a usar esta semana, uno de los técnicos asoma la cabeza por la puerta.

—Ahí viene el chabón —dice. Sentís el murmullo de voces acercándose. Risas breves. Luego, la puerta se abre sin prisa.

—¿Buenas? —dice una voz grave, rasposa, reconocible al instante.

Quitandote los auriculares, giras en tu silla. Duki se encuentra parado, con gorra negra, remera blanca grande y un buzo colgado al hombro. A sus lados, el manager con el que hablaste y uno de sus asistentes.

“Opa” Pensás para tus adentros “Está cambiado el pibe”

El único contacto que has tenido con él fue la vez que lo cruzaste en un festival, allá por 2019, y una segunda vez en 2022, cuando ganó un premio junto con otros cantantes. Crees recordar que cruzaron algún saludo. O igual fue con Ysy A. Cómo sea. Lo ves cambiado. Conserva su identidad de barrio, pero con un aire más adulto. Has oído rumores sobre él, y cómo ahora lleva una vida más saludable. Ignorás si es cierto, mientras las sesiones vayan bien, a vos no te importa su vida privada.

—¿Este es el estudio nuevo, no? Me hablaron bien de acá.

—Sí —respondes saliendo de tu trance—. Lo terminamos de renovar hace unos meses.

Antes de que podas agregar algo más, Tomi se adelanta desde la sala contigua.

—¿Todo bien, loco? Ya está todo armado para probar sonido. ¿Querés pasar al booth o ver el espacio primero?

—Vamos al sonido directo —contesta Duki, con media sonrisa—. Si suena como se ve, va a estar bueno.

Te incorporas, recogiéndote el pelo en una cola y atándolo con una goma que tenes en el brazo. Fede, su manager da un par de pasos y señala entre vos y Duki.

—A Tomi ya lo conocés, y a Sofi la viste antes de entrar ¿No te presentaron con ella, cierto? —pregunta. Duki ladea la cabeza, como pensando.

—No, la verdad. Perdón. ¿Sos parte del equipo de sonido?

Extendes la mano segura.

—Soy la directora del estudio.

El manager sonríe y acomoda el celular en el bolsillo. El cantante te mira de nuevo, esta vez con más atención.

—Ah —dice, estrechándole la mano —. No sabía. Pensé que eras parte de la producción técnica o algo así. Un gusto.

—También —respondes, soltándole la mano—. Pero si pasa algo, lo hablás conmigo. Lo técnico, lo artístico y lo que no sepas cómo pedir.

Tomi y Sofi ríen desde el fondo. Duki también sonríe. Medio de costado.

—Metete en la cabina cuando queras. Ya te cargamos un set básico. Podemos ajustarlo cuando estés listo— continuas.

—Dale —dijo Duki—. Voy a fumar uno antes, ¿tenés problema?

—Ninguno. Pero no me lo prendas adentro, por favor —decís con media sonrisa antes de volver a sentarte. Él asiente, se cuelga el buzo de un dedo y sale con su asistente. En cuanto la puerta se cierra, Sofi te mira.

—Che, me cae mejor de lo que pensaba.

—Todavía no abriste una toma —le contestás, divertida.

—Es aún más lindo en persona.

Vos girás en la silla.

—Ya estabas tardando en comentar algo así.

—Perdón por tener ojos. ¿Vos no pensás lo mismo?

—Y, que se yo— decís encogiéndote de hombros.

Sofi se ríe por lo bajo y empieza a revisar los niveles del micro.

—Dale, no te hagás la que no lo miraste dos veces cuando entró al booth —insiste.

—Capaz lo miré porque entró con un buzo en pleno noviembre.

—Claro, claro… y nada que ver con los ojazos, ¿no?

—Estás re pesada hoy —decís entre risas, apoyando los codos en la mesa.

—¿Y vos no estás nerviosa?

—¿Por?

—Por grabar con Duki, boluda. El Duki.

—Trabajo es trabajo, amiga —respondés.

—Bueno, si en algún momento necesitás que te cubra mientras te vas a gritar al baño, avisame —dice con tono teatral.

La sesión empieza diez minutos después. Duki entra al booth, se calza los auriculares, pide más volumen de base en la mezcla y comienza a cantar leyendo las letras de su celular. Tu mano se mueve rápida en el mouse y la consola. Marcás los momentos fuertes, cortás respiraciones, le indicás por el talkback qué partes querés repetir.

Tiene buena energía, trabaja rápido. Bromea entre las pausas y regraba sin quejarse. A veces pide opinión. A veces no.

Trabajan hasta pasadas las cinco. Duki, fuera de la sala, habla por el celular con alguien. Se había mostrado centrado, más tranquilo de lo que esperabas para una primera sesión.

Fede, su manager, se acerca a ti.

—Bueno, esto fue un buen arranque. ¿Cómo vienen ustedes con horarios en estas semanas?

Tomi se gira en su silla y lo ves calculando mentalmente el calendario.

—Depende —responde, rascándose la barba—. Hoy fueron cinco horas, pero dos se fueron en setear sonido, probar referencias, y el Duko escribiendo cosas sueltas. Si quieren meter sesiones largas, hay que agendarlo con tiempo.

Fede asiente con una media sonrisa.

—La idea es no forzar nada. Pensamos en dos sesiones fijas por semana, de cinco o seis horas.

Asentís.

—Entonces les reservo lunes y miércoles fijos, por ahora, pero sin bloquear el resto por si quieren sumar. ¿Les va?

—Perfecto —contesta el manager mirándote —. Igual, cualquier cambio, te lo escribo directo.

—Dale, joya.

Apenas unos segundos después, se abre la puerta y Duki se asoma con la capucha puesta y una botella de agua en la mano. Con la otra hace un saludo hacia ustedes.

—Nos vemos, guachos. Alta sesión.

Sofi le responde con un gesto exagerado de despedida, vos con un gesto de la cabeza, antes de volver a enfocarte en guardar los archivos que en soltar una frase al aire. Tomi choca los puños con él al pasar, como si ya fuera un ritual entre colegas.

—Está todo bien con este chabón, ¿eh? —dice Sofi en voz baja cuando la puerta del estudio se cierra.

—Viste que sí —decís sin alzar la vista—. Tiene ese aura de “yo sé lo que hago”, pero sin ser pesado.

—Y está más bueno que en los clips.

—Dale, Sofi…— ríe Tomi.

La noche es cálida. Noviembre ha entrado con calor este año. Duki bebe un trago largo de agua caminando hacia el auto con Fede y Tacho, su asistente antes de tirar la botella vacía en una papelera de un manotazo medio sin mirar.

—¿Comiste algo hoy o venís a pan y Red Bull otra vez? —pregunta Fede mientras destraba el auto.

—Comí una empanada fría que sobró del estudio. —dice Duki, subiendo al asiento del copiloto—. Me re dolió el alma, pero no quería perder mucho tiempo.

Tachu, que ya va subiendo atrás, se ríe.

—Igual ni tiempo hubo hoy, zarpado lo que metiste en el segundo tema.

—Sí, ese beat me prendió la chispa. Estaba medio dormido, pero pintó magia.

—Hasta la productora esa se quedó callada, boludo —agrega Tachu.

Duki se gira un poco.

—¿Cuál de todas?

—La que estaba con vos, gorra negra, con la colita. Estaba re atenta.

—Que boludo, no le pregunté su nombre.

Tachu lo mira por el retrovisor con una ceja levantada.

—¿No le preguntaste?

—Fede nos presentó y no me dijo el nombre. Me colgué mal.

—Sos un desastre —dice Fede, entre risas—. Tampoco me extraña, estabas tan dormido que casi grabás un freestyle sobre empanadas —acota cerrando la ventanilla.

—¡Pará, no sería mala! “Media docena de carne, media de pollo…” —improvisa Duki —. “Con la salsita picante te mojo el rollo…”

- We have already finished the exam period, but even if I had, if my options are to be with you or pretend to study, obviously the first option is more appealinf - I see the turmoil that has formed behind us, the director sends to roll-. See you guys later - I add leaving the set. They answer me with a nod before diving into their roles.

***

Cinthya, Mona's half-sister, has come to pick her up.

- No, seriously, stay. You have no classes tomorrow, no exams to study for, so stay and have fun- I want to protest, but she's too quick-. It's not fair that you always miss out on the fun because of me.

- Being with you is so better than anything - I rebut, knowing I mean it but trying to soften her up. She smiles sweetly-. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? - she nods.

- See you guys- she says goodbye to the rest of the group as she rests her hand on Johnny's shoulder.

-What do you want to drink? I'll get it- I ask Mike as Mona leaves. The rest of the group is playing pool.

-A beer, please- I nod and stand up. I order the drinks and wait, leaning my arms on the bar. Meanwhile, I watch Johnny and the rest play. He signals me from the pool table. He has the cue resting on the floor and a lopsided smile on his lips.

-Are you up for it, or are you just here to watch?

-I don't think I'm either one or the other. I'm more of a hinderer- I reply with a smile, approaching with a bottle in each hand. I hand one to Mike.

-Then you're perfect for this group- he says, handing me the cue.

The others laugh. Mike and the others remain focused on their game while Johnny approaches me, stepping up behind me naturally, as if that's nothing.

-Let me show you. -His voice is soft. A shiver runs down my spine.

He places his hands on top of mine, guiding my fingers to hold the cue securely. I feel the heat of his body behind mine, and I tense, but I try to hide it. His closeness is overwhelming. My breathing becomes a little shallower, though he doesn't seem to notice. Or maybe he does.

The others chuckle, throwing comments as I try to get the ball in the right position.

-Not like that, you'll ruin the table! -shouts one from the other side, and I dismiss it with a wave of my hand as they all burst into laughter.

Between crooked shots, contradictory advice and applause every time I manage to sink a ball, even if it's clearly by luck, I decide to take a break and sit near the bar, watching the rest.

Johnny approaches, combing his hair back with his hand and a half-smile.

-Not so bad, huh? I admit I was expecting more chaos- he says.

-Oh, believe me, I held back- I reply, turning to him with a smile.

-And why is that? -he asks, raising an eyebrow.

-I didn't want to humiliate you all in public- I reply, shrugging.

He laughs softly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. I watch as the billiard balls collide, the lamp illuminating that area, while we are surrounded by a very dim light.

I get up and bump into Johnny's body. He's ordering another drink, and I hadn't noticed he had moved. I’m going to apologise for bumping into him, but the words don't come out.

-Everything okay? -he asks, his voice calm, from behind me. Again, his voice throws me off. Silly me.

-Yeah, sure- I reply.

Johnny says nothing. His hand, almost without thinking, moves up my arm to rest gently on my hip. The gesture is simple, barely a second, but it leaves me completely immobile.

I lean lightly against Johnny's chest. His hand moves up my hip to rest on my waist. Our friends continue to play without much notice of us. This is wrong. This is so wrong, I would never have expected this of myself. But the touch of his hands on my hip sends a tingle through my body.

God, what is it about this man that has this effect on me?

I break away at once, as if the contact burns me. He doesn't move, and for a moment, there is only the distant murmur of the bar and the sound of the eight-ball rolling across the table.

-He's with Mona? - the statement comes out in the form of a question out of disbelief.

- So what? You can't deny he's handsome as hell. I would be head over heels.

-Even if I liked him, he's with my best friend, I want what's best for her, not to make her miserable - I snort.

-What difference does it make? It's Johnny Depp. One shag, you're in the papers and you're the next big thing - I look at the phone. What an idiot. I hang up without saying goodbye.

                                        ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

I follow the rest of the actors as they turn away from the cameras and flashbulbs and head for a door. I keep taking in the surroundings, the crowds of people milling around, the screaming fans and the journalists asking questions that go unanswered when a man stops me.

- Just actors.

- I'm in the film.

- Lead actors only.

The man gives me a disdainful look and I can't help but be annoyed by his stare. I look over his shoulder and see how the rest of my friends have passed.

- Please step out of here.

- Where am I supposed to go? I've been invited to the premiere- he smiles haughtily as if I'm trying to sneak in and he's caught me.

- Please don't make the situation complicated- I guess his intentions, but I don't react quickly enough and he grabs my arm roughly.

- Don't touch me - it comes out more rudely than I'd like, but he's starting to get on my nerves.

-Is there a problem? - I recognise the smell of citrus and woody notes. Johnny steps between us-. She's coming with us- he adds, staring at the way he's grabbing me. I pull away, glaring angrily at the security guard. Moron. He pretends to apologise but I can tell from the look on his face that he couldn't care less.

- I wasn't informed, I apologise - and stepping aside, he goes on to stop anyone without an invitation.

- Are you all right? - asks Johnny.

-What do you care? - I know he's not to blame for what just occurred, but I'm still upset about what just happened and how the man treated me. Before he can say anything else, I walk through the door they didn't intend to let me through. Instead of following the various directional signs, I continue forward, getting as far away as possible.

A long staircase is all I find. I sigh. It'll have to do.

Grabbing the bottom of my dress, I climb them, until I reach the roof.

Stupid guard.

I reach the top of the building, the roof is a fascinating space offering a panoramic view of the city. The fresh air and light breeze cool my face, and I realise how hot my face is.

From here, I can look out over the vastness of Westwood. Houses and houses and a few blocks of multi-storey buildings, all lit up with lights. I can hear the hubbub below, the murmur of people and the hum of cars.

I want to go home. I shouldn't have come.

- So here you are.

I tense for a moment but as I turn around, I calm down.

- I thought you were that guard- I say, looking back at the starry night. If he makes a gesture, I don't see it -. What are you doing here anyways, don't you have to go to the premiere?

- It's just brunch now, the presentations aren't until later. I wanted to make sure you were okay- I feel Johnny's presence beside me.

- I'm fine, I just came here... to smoke - I lie. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't know why I haven't followed the rest of the cast. When I'm frustrated, I prefer to be alone, but this wasn't the time to behave like a little girl.

Johnny looks me in the eye, and I notice a mocking smile.

-To smoke?- I look back at him defiantly. Of course, there's not a lighter in my bag, but he doesn't need to know that. His smile widens and at this moment I realise that I'm challenging Johnny Depp. One of the most famous actors in the world. All the jokes, and comments, and out for a drink hit me and suddenly, I'm embarrassed to be standing next to him. I look back at the queue that has formed outside the theatre.

- Are you going to tell me to quit because it's not good for me?

- Oh no, I'm not the kind of person who tries to convince someone to give up their bad habits. Besides, that wouldn't be very convincing coming from me, would it? - I smile faintly without looking at him- Y/N, I know today has been a bit of a struggle, but I want you to know that you're doing a great job handling all of this. Don't let comments like that discourage you.

He places his hand on mine. The cold touch of the gravel where my hands were resting disappears at his warm touch. My gaze fixes on his hand. Maybe it's because I'm still shaken by the way the guard has spoken to me in contrast to Johnny's gentleness, but how I wish for once he would stop giving me friendly gestures and hug me.

I want to apologise for the way I treated him earlier, I want to tell him that I really don't smoke, that I feel out of place with them and that the scene with the guard was no big deal, but he pointed out that, indeed, this is not my place. I don’t tell him that.

- You know, that brunch you were telling me about, sounds delicious.

-A little soap and water and you're as good as a new, sweetheart. It's not very deep, are you feeling alright? - I smile.

-Yes, thank you very much for cleaning me up. .... - I remain silent for her to tell me her name.

-Margaret.

-Thank you so much, Margaret, it was just the impression, it didn't hurt. I can't imagine how many times Johnny must have cut himself by accident with those things- I say looking at myself in the dressing room mirror.

-God bless him- she shakes her head, wiping the wound with cotton wool-. Young Depp knows how to clean wounds in his sleep from all the times he's been here- I laugh-. That man can do wonders with his hands-I look at her through the mirror. She doesn't seem to realise what she has just said. I wonder how Johnny would react if he heard that-. There you are, sweetie. You can go back to the set- she smiles warmly.

-Do you want me to help you with something?- I ask, looking at several boxes piled up with a post-it with the word ORGANIZE on them. Margaret looks at the pile and waves her hand.

-No one has ever died from resting too much, have they? So it's okay if we take some time to rest -I laugh helplessly and Margaret smiles.

      ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

-Y/N, it's for you- my father peeks out of my bedroom door and smiles, nodding towards the phone in the living room.

-Coming- I pick up the phone placed on top of it -Yes?

-Y/N, Hi. It's Johnny. I was calling to see how you're doing after today’s accident. I didn’t have time to apologize

-Hi Johnny. Don’t worry, I'm fine, it was nothing serious. Besides, Margaret was a sweetheart, she made it all very enjoyable.

-I don't doubt it, you’re in good hands with her- Oh man, not the hand thing again-. I'm glad you're well. I almost forgot. I'll give you my number in case you need something. Winona told me that her phone has broken,— broken is an interesting way to mean that Winona and I accidentally ran over the phone cable untrusting it from the wall when we were dancing around the house — so if you need to ask her anything, you can call me since we’re on set together all the time. Anything you need, give me a call.

-Great, thanks- I say writing down his number- See you tomorrow then. Good night Johnny-

-Good night Y/N- I hang up the phone and head to the kitchen. My parents are talking to each other while preparing dinner.

-Who was that? Not that Rick-lad again, I presume - I grin sitting down.

-No dad. It was Johnny Depp.

-What a handsome guy, do you remember the show we saw? - My mom puts her hand on my father's arm asking him the question. He nods.

-He has a good future. Remember that kiddo- my parents laugh. I shake my head. My father loves to set me up with every guy who thinks he's a good lad. Being a lawyer, he says that after 25 years of practice, he recognizes that easily.

-He's with Mona.

-Our Winona has a boyfriend? -Mom smiles- Lovely as she is, no wonder she's with such a nice guy. Is he as friendly as he looks on TV?- I nod

-Well, they're not dating as such, but mom, really, you have to see them, you'd think they've been dating forever. And yes, he's very kind, he just called to ask me how I'm doing about earlier- I explained, alluding to the cut.

-Mona? - I turn around, as soon as the door opens, still staring at the computer screen. Nevertheless, it's Johnny Depp who has entered the room and I close my mouth-. Hi Johnny. -Y/n, hello- he smiles with his hand on the doorknob- ,How are you? It’s nice to see you here- as charming as ever Depp, I think, but I lack the confidence to say it to him. “I've been in front of the computer for an hour that your kind director Tim Burton has left me, who is another celebrity like you and because I'm ignorant I didn't recognize him, trying not to throw up because I'm so nervous. But yeah, I’m quite well” Instead, I respond with, "Fine, how are you?” -Well well, we're nearing the end of the film, we have a few scenes to go. Were you waiting for Winona? -I nod-. She'll be a while, she's on the set now. -Mmm, how much do you think it’ll take her five, ten minutes?- I ask, turning back to the computer screen and going back to reading the email. -Oh no, short time on set means about an hour- he smiles kindly. -An hour? - I try to sound calm but I'm not good at this carefree thing. -Is there something wrong?- he asks, dropping his smile. I move a little away from the computer so he can see it. -The teacher has to give me a grade back at 4- I explain-. If I fail, I have to repeat the course. Winnie was going to give me emotional support- Johnny comes closer, closing the door behind him. -Relax, you're going to pass that exam- he sits down next to me as he checks the email my teacher sent me-. Winona says you're very bright and she's not wrong. You're going to pass the course, so don't worry. - he puts his hand on my arm. High enough not to make me feel uncomfortable and low enough to give me that closeness. I look up at him. -I'm still nervous, but thanks- I run both hands over my face. Johnny looks at me. -What would you like to do? -What do you mean?- He smiles kindly again. -Like, to study. When you finish high school, what would you like to study? -I don't know. There's nothing I'm passionate about. I don't really know. -Do you plan to stay here? -I guess. -Have you thought about going on a trip? Go to India or Africa. You might discover your passions there- I think about it for a moment. -It's not a bad idea. Then I could wear shorts and Hawaiian shirts every day. What would you like to do if you weren't an actor?- I ask him, looking at the computer, hoping for a change in the emails. He thinks for a moment, playing with the ring on his index finger. -The trip thing sounds good. Go somewhere in the West India and go on an adventure- -Like a pirate? -Yeah, something like that- he laughs. -Johnny Depp and the Pirates of the Caribbean- I say-. It would be cool. We could go together, on a spiritual journey- A notification sounds on my computer. I feel nervous again. I open the email in a hurry and start reading it.

Dear student, 

I scan the entire paragraph where it describes why the mail is due, looking for the percentage that indicates whether I have passed or failed.

The final grade of the exam is 56%, thus the course is considered as passed.

-Winnie, we've known each other since we were eight, don't try to fool me. Now, you can tell me all about him. -Don't tell me I've never heard of him- she snorts. My blank stare must be enough for her to see that I don't know who she's talking about. -You know I'm not interested in cinema. -But he's known, y/n, you must have heard of him. You'll like him. The fame hasn't gone to his head at all. He's so interesting, I could talk to him for hours. He's polite, funny, honest. -Yeah, you do really like him. -I'm telling you, he's the kind of guy you'd really like- she insists. -You know I believe you- I look at my watch-.But if it's going to take much longer, you'll have to introduce me to him another day. I have to go. -How so? Are you meeting someone? Rick?- she grins mischievously. -Lord no, he calls the house every day. My father can't stand him- I deny-. We have a maths exam on Monday. -Exams? Winona was one of the best students in the class and we always studied together. Since she started acting, she dropped out of school. We don't see each other as often as we would like to. It's been a year since then, but she feels guilty that we don't do the same things we used to do together, like studying for exams. -But it's still April- she protests in bewilderment-. We used to start exams in May. -Perks of being a senior- I reply with a wink. She relaxes her frown and smiles. She opens her mouth but at the same moment, a boy comes out of the door. From the way my friend hesitates before getting up, I deduce that it's Johnny Depp. -See you, Monday Stan- he says, heading into the room. When he turns his head and sees he's not alone, he smiles broadly, causing her brown eyes to narrow -. Winona- he approaches her-. I thought you'd gone with the others. -I was waiting for you- Even though her back is to me, I can tell from her voice that she has a goofy grin on her face. -You shouldn't have- he still has a smile plastered on his face. 

God, they're made for each other. 

They both stare at each other for a while, until I clear my throat. -And I wanted to introduce you to my best friend. Johnny, this is y/n- Winona steps aside so we can introduce ourselves. -It's nice to finally meet you- he steps closer to me and the smell of his perfume wafts over me. He leans down to give me two kisses on my cheeks. His skin is soft, and the approach increases the scent. Too sweet for my taste. -Likewise- I reply, mimicking his actions. -And how do you know each other? Do you act too?- he asks as he puts on his jacket. -Not at all, we have been friends since childhood. Winona thought of showing me what the set was like and she introduced me to some of your colleagues. Now we've been with Bea and Henry-I look to Mona to confirm their names and she nods with a smile. -They're nice people. But if you didn't follow Bea talking, you should see her at a party. -Hey, why don't you come with us to the party tonight?- Winnie asks-. You'd have a great time, wouldn't she Johnny?- she asks looking from me to him. -It's a great idea. You should come with us- he smiles running his hand through his hair. -It sounds tempting, but I have a date with the maths books and I can't miss it. -Just a little while? -I deny with a smile-. I'm sure I can convince you on the way to the bus stop to come over. -I can give you a lift home if that's okay- Johnny suggests-. It's a longer way to convince her there- he says, looking at Winona, and she laughs-. I'll get the keys. -I thought he was going to have the same hairstyle he had in Cry Baby-I comment as he disappears down the corridor. -You told me you're not interested in cinema. You didn't know who he was until a moment ago- she says, looking at me in surprise. -But I hear you when you talk. He's crazy about you, too. One more minute and I was going to be jealous of the way you look at each other - I joke and she laughs. A metallic noise makes us turn around. The boy jangles his car keys in front of us.