"Shap went to Jamaica with you?" Nick asked. He popped the top on the beer and slid it across the island to me.
"Yeah, but also no. It's complicated. She was there for a conference," I said. "We stayed at the same resort. We had some really great days and I got to tell her dad he's a dick, but she isn't ready for this to be more than—" I blew out a long breath. "Whatever. My life basically imploded. It's cool."
Nick grinned at Erin. "I told you it was a bad idea to try setting her up with Malakai."
"Let it go, Nick," she said with a laugh.
"That one fuckin' hurt," I admitted. "Just do me a favor and don't set her up in front of me anymore, okay? I know she's going to be around and I gotta deal with that, but don't blindside me. Also, it would be great if we could keep this between the three of us. We cannot have anyone taking sides or bringing this up to her in any way. Not only would she reach down my throat and rip out my organs, she'd hate me for putting her in a situation where she has to talk to people."
"That's not a problem at all," Nick said. "Hartshorn isn't going to notice a damn thing. He's got his hands full these days. I know Shap's close with Emmerling, but Emmerling will throw down with anyone who crosses her. No one will make it awkward for Shap, I promise."
"If you want to invite her over here, you have to be chill about it. Okay? You can't call up the squad and get everyone in on the peer pressure. It stresses her the fuck out. She's not going to tell you that, but she blew up my chest cavity so I have no filter left in me." I pointed the beer bottle at Erin. "And if you want to hang out with her, ask her to go shopping or out for a walk or whatever women do together. Keep it small. Not just the big dinner parties."
Erin touched her fingers to my forearm. She was cold from holding the bottle of sparkling water she'd plucked from the fridge. "Slow down for a sec, okay? You're spinning out."
"If I don't tell you this now, when am I going to tell you? This is my chance, Erin. I'm falling the fuck apart, so might as well let it all go."
"Slow down. You are not falling apart. You are not caving in on yourself. " She held up a warning hand and leveled me with a stare over the rims of her glasses. "Let's put this in perspective. Let's think about it and pull all the way back, out of this single unpleasant moment, out of this day, out of this place and time."
I gulped the beer. "Are you going to tell me something ridiculous and obscure now? Will it kick my ass?"
She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "You are as good as impossible."
"Yeah, I know. I get that frequently. Nick's said it to me a million times," I replied.
"No. That's not what I mean," she said. "You are nearly impossible." She brought her hands to her chest. "I am nearly impossible. All of us, nearly impossible. That we are alive right here, right now, is such a practical impossibility that it makes everything else seem insignificant. When I pull all the way back and I gather up the contents of this universe as we comprehend it, I see the existence of us—and our great struggles in that existence—as wild accidents. There are entire galaxies forming and dying beyond us, all while we are here in this moment, stumbling around in these fleshy, emotion-filled bodies. We are grains of sand, we are accidents, we are ridiculous miracles—and this is the one, outrageously impossible existence we get." She twisted the bottle of water open. "So, we're not going to let one hiccup get in our way. We're not going to let it end us. We're not going to stop stumbling around. We're not going to stop feeling everything. And we're not going to forget that we are impossible in the best way."
I stared at her for a minute as her words settled over me. "Yeah. Okay."
"That wasn't enough," she murmured.
I shrugged. I really liked this woman—in an extremely platonic way, it was worth noting—and I lived for her weird stories. But the fact I was a mathematical improbability wasn't getting me where I needed to go tonight. In truth, I needed to go to a pink glass and teal velvet apartment and wrap myself around a heartbeat that I wanted more than my own. "It was great."
"What about the Marie Antoinette story? The one with the croissants. I like that one," Nick said.
"History doesn't work on him," she said.
"It doesn't," I agreed. "Sorry."
"I can do better," she said, her fingers on her temples. "Give me a second."
"Really, you don't have to," I said.
"Yeah, Erin, he's right. You don't have to do that. It would also make me very happy if you'd just sit down," Nick said from the stove. "Don't worry about this guy. He needs a couple of beers, a good meal, and some sleep. He'll shake it off in the morning."
"Is that the remedy?" I asked him. "Why hadn't I thought of that?"
"Because you're busy lurking around corners," he replied. "You're freaking the surgical techs out, you know."
"I doubt that," I replied.
"Doubt it all you want, but my circulating nurse said you were being a pain in the ass."
"I'm a lot of things, but I'm only a general pain in the ass. I keep my bullshit high-level. I'm never a pain in the ass to nurses or techs," I said. "I learned my lesson in that arena a long time ago."
"I've got it." Erin grabbed my arm, turned my hand over and pointed at the inside of my wrist. "What is that? That blue line?"
"Are you seriously quizzing me on anatomy? Radial artery. For fuck's sake, Walsh."
"And what's that artery pumping?"
"Okay, so, this is a quiz," I muttered. "Wow. Did not expect that from you. Arteries pump oxygenated blood."
"And what's blood composed of?"
"Well, you've got your red and white blood cells, your plasma, your platelets." I stared at her. "Why? I do not have the strength to donate blood tonight if that's where you're going with this. There isn't enough juice. Not enough cookies."
"Because I want to talk to you about hemoglobin." She made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. "It's a structure built on four iron subunits."
"Oh my god, Erin. Are you telling him the iron story?" Nick called. "You don't have to do that. Is it really that bad? I don't think so, honey. I don't think you need to dig that deep into the toolbox."
"I think the situation requires it." She gave a sage nod and now I knew I was in some shit. "This planet is home to loads of iron and that's a good thing because it's essential to sustaining life for humans, plants, and animals. But when I stop and think about iron though, I'm reminded of the violent death in its creation."
I curled the ends of my sleeves into my fists. "Wait, what?"
"Iron doesn't belong to us," she said. "It belongs to the heart of a dying star."
"Here we go," Nick muttered.
She tapped the blue lines running up her arm. "Once upon a very long time ago, a red giant star digested all its helium and turned it into oxygen and carbon, which eventually morphed into iron. All that iron turned the star into a supernova and then its heart burned out the last of its fuel. There was a massive explosion, the likes of which we can't even imagine because the power and brightness exceeds anything we know in this world. But that explosion—the star's death—sent iron atoms flying through space along with oxygen and carbon. Gravity got in on the game and rounded them up into the planets we know today. The core of this planet is believed to be mostly molten iron. It's inside us and all around us and life wouldn't continue without it."