Bo stared at the empty water glass balancing on its thin foot and Bo’s finger, watching it move this way and that while someone beside him spoke – about what he couldn’t remember anymore. He zoned in and out for who knew how long, and Ada hadn’t stopped him from doing so. Bo knew, as well, that no amount of coercion and threats could “entice” him into being a “decent human being.” Her words.

Still, Bo found the conversations challenging to grasp, hollow and echoing like the maw of a cave. His mental clock ticked down. Ever the spectator, Bo wondered how people could effortlessly flow with them.

“You know, originally, I didn’t even really intend to stay in L.A.” The guy’s voice was monotone, flat, yet still, somehow, upbeat. “I went out that way to visit a friend.”

“Mm.” The sound was steady, not affirming interest. Bo was confident this wasn’t the same conversation he zoned out of. Something about birds or bats.

“But...” He sighed. “...you can’t beat the weather.”

He could hear the smirk in the guest’s words.

“And my friend – ah, you know how things go – we ended up starting a company together.” Others cooed in surprise, interest, asking more questions. “Yeah, we just turned our first profit. Only 14 months after we started.”

“Oh my God,” Bo groaned under his breath.

“But, ah. Sorry, I’ve been rambling for too long.”

‘Thank fucking God.’

“Tell me about you.” Still, the guest’s voice stayed steady, an ocean on a calm windless night.

“What do you want to know?” someone else asked.

“What do you do?”

The other person sighed. “Well, after high school, I went to Princeton for bioengineering and molecular physics, but I didn’t graduate because I was offered a publishing contract with HarperCollins for my memoir about growing up in rural Pennsylvania – ”

Something in Bo ricocheted through his chest, angry and desperate and wild. The stilted, strained breath he took was too loud for anyone not to notice it. His hands trembled on his legs when all eyes turned on him. He planted the glass firmly on its foot and stood, unable to hide his awkwardness. “Excuse me. I need to get some air,” Bo hissed.

Ada grabbed him, pulling him back down. “Don’t be rude,” she said through her teeth. “I brought them over so you could talk to them.”

“Great picks. Bring dogs next time. They’re easier on the eyes.”

“Bo, you’re being rude.”

“Wild. I’m getting air.”

“You’re being antisocial.”

“You can hear me now?”

Ada turned back to the table, her smile strained and trying. “Excuse us for a moment?” She grabbed Bo’s arm again, tugging him from the restaurant’s shadowed entrance. “I have to go...maim him a little.” She pulled him into an empty section of the corridor, the dark square fountain babbling in the distance. The hotel was quieter here, the soft music overhead the dominant sound. “You could, at least, pretend to like the fact that you’re away from work,” she snapped.

“And if I said I didn’t?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I needed air, Ada.”

“You were running away.”

“I was literally trying to get some fresh air.”

“You were running away.”

Bo crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “Call it what you want, but –”

“You embarrassed me in front of them. I knew some of them from school.”

“You should’ve warned them about me beforehand.”

“You aren’t this bad. Generally.”

“I need to up my game, then.”

“Bo –”

“Sorry I embarrassed you.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Bo.”

He stared at her, feeling the rage radiating off her. “What? What did you want me to do, Ada? I don’t know them. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, okay? I swear I didn’t.” The embarrassment was all his, anyway.

She shook her head. “You forget, though, that I know you better than our own fucking parents.”

“I’m not bullshitting you, Ada. I swear.” Ungratefulness coursed through his veins. His tongue felt sharp. “I mean, if it wasn’t a clue that I feel bad about being here, I still don’t know anyone. Maybe you can make me listen to that guy’s story about moving to L.A. again. That’ll change everything.”

“Fine. Fine. I get it.”

“Watershed moment, baby. I need to know what’s so great about L.A.’s weather.”

“You don’t want to be here. Fine. The least you can do – the bare minimum – is fucking pretend to enjoy yourself a little.”

“Aw. How would you know if I liked anyone or not?”