He didn’t hear Celia when she walked up behind him. “Still moping, I see?” she said. He closed the lid of the laptop without turning. “Still spying on me, I see.” She poked him in the shoulder. “Dude, do I have to smack you with a clue-by-four? You need to either take a leap of faith, or move on. This is just pathetic. Both of you are.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Tim had let her drag the whole story out of him a few days after he returned from Laguna Beach after Gwen had left. “Dumbass,” she’d said then. “Write her.” “She said not to.” “Yeah, because she’s hurting and in a lot of pain. What the fuck is wrong with that boyfriend of yours? I thought you said he loves her, too? Why’d he run her off?” “Because he was scared.” “Dumbass.” Now, Celia stared at him. Glared at him was more like it. “Write her.” He shook his head. “I can’t.” “Dumbass. Then let her go.” He shook his head again. “I can’t, Celia.
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