Sky Tongues by Gina Ranalli

paper.
   And before long we were on the road again.

55

   During the wrap party that year, I was popping an olive into my mouth when I looked across the room and saw the woman who had been my advisor on The Queen is Dead. She was standing in a corner talking to one of our shows editors. I stood there watching her for a minute, trying like hell to remember her name but it just wasn’t coming to me. Oh well, I thought. I’ll just bite the bullet.
   I left the bar and started making my way towards her. She spotted me over the guys shoulder and smiled. Smiling back, I thought, Fuck! What is her name!’ I figured by the time I’d reached her it would have come to me but it didn’t. Was it Rabia? I couldn’t be sure…
   “Hi,” I said, raising my glass in greeting. I never extend my hand to be shaken unless the other person does it first. Experience has told me that not everyone is thrilled to be grabbing a handful of tongues.
But this woman actually reached around the man, offering me her hand. “Hi, Sky. It’s so nice to see you again.”
   “Likewise,” I agreed.
   “You two know each other?” Clyde, the editor, asked.
   I nodded, chewing a piece of ice from my glass. “We’ve met, yes.”
   He looked at her. “Wow. I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you mention it?”
   She shrugged, a little half-smile on her face as she watched me.
   Even though I regretted having to do so, I said, “I’m really sorry, but right now your name escapes me.”
   She seemed surprised but not particularly offended. “Rabia.”
   “Rabia! Of course!” I nodded enthusiastically, like a complete idiot.
   “Clyde, would you mind freshening up my drink?” she asked, still not looking at the guy.
   “No, problem,” he replied. “In fact, I’ll get you a whole new one. Open bar!”
   When he was gone, I said, “So, you and Clyde, huh?”
   “Oh, gods no. I just met him.”
   Really? Tonight?”
   “A few nights ago at a friend’s house. He told me he worked on your show and then when he invited me to the wrap party, I couldn’t say no.”
   “Cool.” I nodded again, feeling like a moron. “So, how have you been?”
   “I’ve been great, thanks. Working here in LA on my dissertation. How about you?”
   “Good, good. You know…” I gestured around us. “Same ole, same ole.”
   “Movie-star stuff,” she said with a mischievous smile.
   I laughed. “Yeah. Movie-star stuff.”
   Clyde returned with her drink and I excused myself. She gave me a look that said don’t go, but I had to. There was something about her that made me nervous as hell and I didn’t want to make a bigger ass out of myself than I already had.
   For most of the rest of the night, I did my best to avoid her but when it was getting on towards dawn and I’d stepped onto the balcony to toast the sunrise, she found me.
   She leaned her elbows against the railing, same as me, and asked, “Are you avoiding me?”
   “Yes.”
   “Why?”
   “Because you make me nervous.”
   “Why?”
   I didn’t dare say the first thought that ran through my head. Instead, I looked down into the depths of my gin and tonic and said nothing.
   “Sky.”
   “Hmm?”
   “I’m sorry I was such a jerk the last time we saw each other.”
   I looked up in surprise. “You weren’t a jerk.”
   “I was. I should have just said yes. I’ve been regretting it ever since.”
   “Really?” I was still surprised, but tried to make light of it. “You didn’t miss much, I can guarantee you that.”
   She leaned over and kissed me. “I beg to differ.”
   I took her home with me that morning.

56

   I would have married her too, if the laws had permitted it.
   But, as we all know, our government is not open-minded and to this day forbids different breeds of Mues (yes, we are still referred to as breeds