George stared down at the slip of paper in his hand, even though he'd already memorized it's contents. (555)-444-3333 and the name Dominic, scribbled hastily in pen. He traced the letters of his name with his finger as if his handwriting would unlock some sort of mystery.

"Should I call him?" He wondered out loud.

"For the last time," replied Ivory. "if you want to call him, call him!"

"It's not that simple," George said.

"If he really likes you, he won't care if you call him now. He'll be exited."

George looked up from the paper, stunned. That was the closest thing to wisdom that he'd heard come out of Ivory's mouth. However, he simply repeated his previous statement. "It's not that simple."

"I'm going to bed." Ivory said and he didn't stop her. She hadn't slept for days. "If you need anything, wake me up."

He sighed and went back to staring at the paper. He decided that it was too late to call the cute tattooed man. He didn't know when the guy slept, or if he even slept at all. He didn't even know his last name and yet he felt something like love at first sight. He traced the letters of his name slower this time, whispering each letter as he went. "D-o-m-i-n-i-c." It was a very pretty name.

Just as he heard Ivory's snores through the thin walls of their apartment, the phone rang on the wall rang. The phone was mainly for Ivory so she could contact publishers. She had a cell phone, but she rarely used it. She had no reason to. He rushed over so that the ringing wouldn't wake up his sleeping cousin.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Hi, this is Jeannine Wilks from Silver Quill publishing company. Is this Ivory?"

George pulled the phone away from his ear and took a deep breath. "No way..." "Hello?" He heard the lady's voice coming faintly from the phone. He took another breath and brought the phone back to his ear.

"Hi, yes, no, this isn't Ivory." He stammered. "I live with her. I'm her cousin George."

"Nice to meet you George." She said in a diplomatic tone. "Can I talk to Ivory?" Just then a loud snore erupted from Ivory's room.

He debated waking her up, but this was the first time she'd really slept in days. "No, she's not available right now. But I can pass on a message.

"I understand, it's fairly late." Jeannine said. "We just wanted to tell her that her story "Dreaming of Shadows" is going to be published. We just have a few conditions and details we'd like to talk to her about. Can she call us back tomorrow?"

"Yes!" George yelled enthusiastically. "I mean yes, she'll call you back. Thank you so much." He said softly.

The lady just laughed. "Any time George. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He replied, and hung up the phone.

The next morning George practically watched Ivory sleep until she woke up around ten thirty. When she stirred he shoved a cup of coffee in her hand with no hesitation. It was only half full, and mostly cream and sugar.

"Good morning." He said and shook her. "Wake up."

Ivory groaned, but sat up and took a sip of the coffee. Strands of her silvery hair were stuck to her face. The rest was tangled and caught the light in such a way that made it glow pastel pink. "Why'd you do that?"

"Hush." George said. "I have good news."

Ivory's eyes lit up, whether it was the caffeine or from the idea of good news he couldn't tell. "What is it?"

He considered making her guess it, but he decided against it. "You're book is being published, for real this time."

Ivory's mouth just hung open.

"The Silver Quill publishing company called me last night. They're going to call again to talk to you."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You needed the sleep." He was right. She still had dark circles under her eyes, but they looked better.

She nodded, only looking a bit disappointed. "When will they call back?" She asked.

"Around eleven."

"And what time is it now?"

"Ten thirty."

Ivory sprung out of bed. "What?" she demanded.

"I thought you'd-" he stammered. "I thought it'd be-"

"It's fine, everything's fine." Ivory said, calming down. "Thirty minutes is enough time." She ran her fingers through her long silky hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

"What manuscript are they publishing?"

"Dreaming of Shadows."

"Great," she said. "That one's my favorite."

Thirty minutes later Ivory was sitting at the phone, staring expectantly at it. Any other time George would have said something sarcastic, but he knew this was important to her, so he kept his mouth shut.

When the phone finally rang, Ivory jumped up to answer it. "Hello?!" She demanded.

"Um, yes hi, this is Jeannine Wilks from the Silver Quill publishing company." The phone was on speaker mode so they could both hear. "Are you Ivory?"

"Yes. That's me." She said in a surprisingly professional voice.

"Wonderful. That means you must have heard about our decision to publish your book "Dreaming of Shadows".

"Yes. Thank you so much."

"You're quite welcome. Your bizarre style of writing and surreal plot lines enchanted us all. But there's just a few things we'd like to talk about, changes." Ivory frowned. This was to be expected though.

"We love your characters, they seem to leap off the page. Logan is my personal favorite." Ivory gave a small smile at this. George wanted to explode with pride. "But they have a few qualities we think will make them, well, unpopular with readers."

"What do you mean?" Ivory asked, shocked.

"Well, to be blunt, why are all your characters, um, gay?" George's stomach dropped to the floor.

"Because we need more representation in the media." Ivory growled.

"I understand, but we think your book will be a best seller if you make your characters straight. They'll be more relatable."

"Make them straight..." Ivory whispered, barley audible, as if tasting the words, considering the idea. "Is that what you want to change?"

"That among other things." Jeannine said. "We'll arrange meeting in person soon. Think about it."

"Best seller." Ivory whispered.

"Have a good day!" The publisher said, and hung up the phone.

To George, Ivory always seemed soft and pink, rounded at the edges, like a picture that was always out of focus. Like a child that was too busy playing hide-and-go seek to grow up properly. She was short and had always been childishly chubby. She had dimples in her cheeks and knees, and her skin had always been soft and pink for as long as he could remember, and her hair was soft and silvery like corn silk.

But now she seemed sharp and red. The camera man had finally gotten his act together and focused the camera. She seemed more like an adult, like a fairy godmother had snapped her fingers and injected adulthood and anger into her veins. Those round edges became as sharp as knives. She hurled the phone against the wall and the pieces flew everywhere. She let a shrill scream.

"What. In. The. Word." She growled.

"I..." George muttered. "I don't know what to say..."

"I do!" She shouted. "So what," she kicked a chair "if my characters," she knocked over a mug that was sitting on the counter "are gay?!"

She inhaled sharply and ran her fingers though her still messy hair. She fell back into the couch and looked like she was deflating. The red smoothed out, the flames died. She softened at the edges and faded into pink. "I just don't get it." She sighed, looking exhausted. "Why?"

"I don't know." George whispered and pushed his wheelchair over the her. "I don't know."

"I really want this George, what if this is my last chance?"

"Do you really believe that?"

She threw her hands up. "Maybe!"

"Your writing is amazing! Did you hear all the things Jeannine said?"

She shrugs. "I can't possibly say yes to changing my characters like that."

"Then don't."

"Best seller..." She whispered.

There was a pause.

"I'm going to bed." She said and left George in silence.

                                                                        . . .

The ringing of the phone echoed in George's ribcage and collided with the butterflies in his stomach as he waited for Dominic to pick up the phone. He rubbed the slip of paper with the other's phone number on it between his thumb and index finger like it'd bring him good luck.

There was a click on the other end of the line. "Hello?" Said a gruff voice that made George's heart melt.

"Hey. This is George. You gave me your number at Lydia's party last night."

"Oh yeah, you're the cute one with the glasses."

George laughed. "You'll need to be more specific. There were quite a few cute boys with glasses."

"You were the cutest. And the only one I gave my number to if that helps at all." George blushed. "So I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime?" Dominic's voice seemed more shy than gruff all of a sudden.

"I'd love to." And for one selfish second, George thought he could leave behind Ivory and her problems.