I collapsed stomach first onto my bed. A light knocking sounded from my door along with Ramona’s voice asking, “Are you alright?”
With only one eye open, I looked at her standing in my open doorway, her face a mask of concern. “I’m fine,” I grumbled. All I wanted to do after a training session with Simone was sleep.
Ramona huffed. “Idewtjioewds. You’ve been coming home practically dead lately and don’t think Idetjiowedkmflskdjhrtiejowdskfe drunk. What kind of training is Leslie giving you?”
“It’s not Leslie training me,” I replied, my voice half-muffled by the sheets, “it’s Simone.”
“Simone.” Ramona blinked. “Simone?” She crossed her arms, tilting her head to one side as her expression changed from concern to confusion. “Do I know Simone?”
“Please just let me sleep, Ramona,” I begged.
“No!” she snapped. “I’m worried about you. Maybe I should tell Leslie –”
“Do not tell Leslie!” I yelled, quickly sitting up in my bed. It was hard enough trying not to let Tazina’s glances get to me, to not let them fuel my own worries. The last thing I wanted was for Leslie to doubt me too. “This is a special kind of training I need to do and I can handle it,” I told Ramona. “So what if I’m exhausted? I’d blend right in with the bytes in the System.”
Ramona chuckled. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” I replied, yawning. I was not in the mood to explain to her that nearly every single byte was constantly tired because of how hard the System worked us.
Ramona frowned. “Really am worried about you,” she said. “You don’t even eat dinner here anymore.”
“What are you, my girlfriend?” I asked in annoyance.
“Could be if I wanted to be,” she retorted.
“You’re not my type,” I replied.
“You have a type?!”
I glanced at her and couldn’t help laughing at her look of genuine shock. “Of course not,” I said. “It’s just what people say in those romance books you and Leslie like so much. When they’re not… interested.” I looked away from Ramona, somehow embarassed by what I’d just said. Why did it feel like I’d accidentally insulted her?
“It’s fine,” she said, “you’re not my type either.” Had she read my mind?
Ramona sat on the bed next to me with a heavy sigh. “Iswetjiewoklfmdsjdfuiojw,” she whispered.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I still think Leslie should know!” she shouted.
I leaned away, her voice ringing in my ears. “Slower, not louder, Ramona,” I said. How many times did I have to tell her that?
“Sorry,” she replied. “But, really, Leslie should be aware of how tired you are.”
“No,” I said firmly. I would not let Ramona give Leslie any reasons to stop this mission. “I knew how much work would go into preparations,” I continued. “The training changes nothing.”
To be continued…