Everyone has baggage, but it's certainly not Selina's job to carry it for them.
*****
Radio talk show host Selina Locke was just looking for a peaceful summer in sunny Barcelona, but...
( — freddie mercury; british singer, songwriter and record producer, best known as the lead vocalist of the rock band queen. )
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"I, ROSS, TAKE THEE, RACHEL . . ."
"He's so stupid," Ethan complains, vaguely gesturing towards the TV, in the middle of his Friends rewatch. He reaches out for the plastic bowl of popcorn set between him and Selina and stuffs a handful of sweet popcorn into his mouth as the laugh track plays. Selina cringes in embarrassment, once again proving the existence of a phenomenon known as secondhand embarrassment. "Remind me again why Rachel is so hung up on him."
"You always want what you can't have," Selina retorts, cupping a glass of ice-cold orange juice between her hands. She only realizes the irony of it when it's too late . . . and also when Ethan throws her an amused glance, lips trembling with laughter. "Ethan, don't."
"What? I didn't say anything."
She playfully kicks him in the calf. "You didn't have to. That look said everything your mouth didn't." Ethan chuckles (the audacity of it), and Selina scowls, sinking into the couch and wishing there was a way of fusing with it. "Seriously, stop it. There was nothing else to drink in the fridge."
"Uh . . . except there is. One of us has to remember to buy groceries." Ethan leans forward when her scowl deepens. "Honestly, are you okay? You've checked your phone, like, ten times during the past twenty minutes; are you waiting for a text or a call? Job-related?"
Ironically, she checks her phone again, resting on the small wooden table next to the couch. It remains silent, just like it has been for seemingly an eternity, and she huffs. Selina thought Ethan hadn't noticed anything and thought she'd be strong enough to resist the temptation of doing it, but faltered.
It's stupid. She can't miss someone she barely spent any time with, especially someone who ruined one of her tank-tops after spitting orange juice all over it, and she feels absolutely ridiculous. It's not something straight out of a freshman's dark poetry book, saying missing Remus is like missing a limb, but his almost constant silence has left a mark on her. They didn't have to stay in touch, but he specifically insisted they should, just in case.
Just in case they were ever in the same place at the same time and wanted to meet up. You know, just in case he remembers all she told him and made sure to carve it into the walls of his brain.
He's nice. He's funny. He's charismatic. He drips talent out of every pore. He's insanely good-looking. They have several common interests.
