The next day went a little more smoothly, mainly because at least I knew what to expect. Connor let me know that he’d be working — “the gallery usually isn’t open on Sundays, but it is this weekend because of the holidays” — and I spent my day being bored out of my mind watching TV. I would rather have read, but he didn’t seem to have many books around except art books and some leftover textbooks, and there was nary an e-reader or tablet in sight. Since he’d left his laptop behind, I supposed I could’ve downloaded an app to access my books, but somehow that seemed too invasive.
I debated emailing Sydney, then decided against it. It just felt too strange to open an ongoing dialogue like that on someone else’s computer, and I didn’t have the faintest idea how I would even begin to explain t
