Bumped by Megan McCafferty

have you been standing there?”
    “Just a few minutes,” I replied. “How long have you been practicing?”
    “Long enough so my parents won’t get pissy about not practicing long enough.”
    I nervously patted the netting on my veil.
    “Did Zen help you pick that out?” she asked.
    “No,” I replied. “This is the same one I was wearing earlier. I didn’t buy one after all.”
    “Oh.”
    Then she picked up one of the balls and started bouncing it from one knee to the other. She seemed worried about something, but I was reluctant to ask what it was. I was afraid to say or do anything that might result in her asking me to leave and never come back.
    “That’s okay,” I said, unclipping my veil from my scalp and shaking out my hair. “It’s a relief to take it off, to tell you the truth.”
    She let the ball drop to the ground and gestured for me to follow her inside.
    “I moved your suitcase into the guest room so you can change into something more comfortable in there.”
    “Thank you.”
    Melody opened the door to the room in which I would be staying, and gestured up to the patchwork of pressed tin tiles in the ceiling, then down to a puzzle of dark and light, long and short wood planks in the floor.
    “My parents recycled the whole house. It’s totally green.”
    She paused, then waited for me to say something, so I did.
    “That’s interesting.”
    “I know it’s not exactly the nature you’re used to,” Melody said, touching her hand to the brass doorknob. “But it’s as all natural as you can get off the farm.”
    I realized then that she was trying her best to find common ground, to make me feel welcome in her home. I wanted to embrace her to thank her for her compassion before she closed the door behind her. But I didn’t. I was afraid such a display might provoke a sudden change of heart.
    This guest room is roughly the same size as the room I share with Laura, Katie, and Emily. But with just one bed in the middle of the room, it feels far more spacious than any room I’ve ever slept in. That’s why I crept into Melody’s room in the middle of the night and slept near her on the floor. I’ve never slept alone. I’m too used to falling asleep to the rise and fall of peaceful breathing. I knew I’d toss and turn all night in the silence.
    “Mellloooooodeee? Helloooooooo . . . ?”
    Oh my grace! I jump at the sound of a voice coming from the front of the house. It sounds too low to be a woman, but too high to be a man. Who is it? How did he/she get in the house?
    “Let me see yooooooooou.”
    I don’t know who would be visiting Melody at this early hour, but I rush toward the front door to find out. I freeze when I reach the common room.
    “I’ve got the BEST NEWS, Miss Melody Mayflower!”
    The voice isn’t coming from a visitor. It’s coming from a man projected larger than life-size on the MiVu wall. It’s almost impossible to notice anything about him other than his suit, which is illuminated with electrified stripes of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.
    “I want to see the look on your face when I tell yoooooooou.” He trills the last word, reminding me of a soprano who holds her notes just a beat longer than everyone else in the Church choir.
    I timidly approach the screen. The first thing I do is lower the volume. This man’s voice carries and I don’t want him waking up Melody. There’s a box lit up in lower right-hand corner indicating that MiVu is in 1Vu mode right now. There are two more boxes that are blinking questions: 2Vu? 2Vu? 2Vu? Or: @Vu? @Vu? @Vu? We don’t have MiVu in Goodside, so I’m not too familiar with the technology, but I believe “2Vu” means we can only see each other. And “@Vu” means that we can be seen by anyone who is plugged into the system right now who wants to see us. As I consider which box to press, the man on the screen keeps up his one-sided conversation.
    “Whoopsie! What time is it there? It’s nearly