Be Mine

Chapter 3

She does not see Roseanne for three weeks. The shoot goes on hiatus after the beach, and Bam assigns them to go on promotional tours separately. Roseanne does TV and web, while Lisa does radio and print, and the first couple of days are so packed Lisa doesn’t even see them go past, the hours going by in a blur.

Roseanne calls on the third night, just as Lisa slips into bed and turns out the light. “Roseanne?” she greets sleepily, burrowing into the covers. “How was your day?”

“Like Bam was trying to kill me,” says Roseanne, yawning at the other end, and Lisa tempers her smile, trying not to imagine Roseanne with her eyes closed, sleepily mumbling into her phone. “TV is exhausting. Is yours any better?”

“If it’s any consolation, shoots for print go for hours.”

“God I’m so excited to see your cover.”

“It’s not going to be a cover – it’s just a picture, Jesus Roseanne—”

“Whatever,” Roseanne says, letting out a small giggle. “I miss your face.”

Roseanne herself does something about that – when she tires of the texts and the phone calls, she shifts to video calls at the end of the week. Lisa fumbles with her laptop – How the hell does this work even? – and Roseanne’s laughing when her face comes on, and Oh.

“Hello,” says Lisa, a bit formally. She adjusts herself in front of the screen, suddenly self-conscious. “Can you see me?”

Roseanne laughs harder, her face on the screen stuttering. “Yes,” she says, coming closer. “How’s this?” Damn. Pixelized and all, Roseanne sure is—“Are you touching your computer screen, Lis?” she teases, and Lisa jerks her hand back, as if burned. “Miss me that much?”

“Roseanne.” Ahead of the blush that she’s sure would overwhelm her face, Lisa reaches over to close her laptop halfway, careful not to shut it completely, so she could still hear Roseanne talking.

“Where are you going? Lis! Come on,” Roseanne’s saying, interrupted by fits of giggling. “Come on. Come back. Please?”

(Lisa returns after a few moments, but not without turning off the lights first; she hopes the dark would disguise her reddening cheeks.)

//

Lisa warms to it eventually; by midway the following week, it becomes an ordinary thing – like a literal window sitting on the hotel desk under the television.

“What was on today?” asks Roseanne, and Lisa walks over to her laptop, toothbrush already in her mouth. “You’re getting ready for bed already?”

Lisa shrugs, before walking out of Roseanne’s line of sight to spit the toothpaste out of her mouth. Like this, it almost feels like Roseanne’s right there in the room with her – all things considered, it’s not a bad feeling.

“Lisa?”

“Yeah? Hang on.” Lisa pulls her hair up hurriedly in a bun before picking her laptop off the table and bringing it to bed with her. “Sorry. You were saying?”