Proof That I am Writing.

“Hey, Amelia?”  His eyes locked on hers in an unexpected gesture of a closeness they didn’t yet share.

Her jaw tightened, stifling a smile. “You know that’s not my name, right?”

“Wait, what?”

“Amelia. You said Amelia.”

“Isn’t Amy short for Amelia?”

“Nope. Just Amy.”

“Are you sure?”

“About my own name? Yeah, pretty certain.”

“Well, I mean yeah. Obviously. It’s just that I’ve always pictured you as an Amelia.”



“I had no idea.” She picked at a hang nail. “You could call me that if you want to.”

“What? No, if it’s not your real name what would be the point?”

“It could be my nickname. It’s not a bad name. I could get used to it.”

“I can’t just decide to call you by another name! Who does that?”

“Everybody calls you ‘Nine’.”

“That’s not the same thing, Amy.” He looked away.

“So, we’re back to Amy, then?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Did I ruin the moment?”


“Are you crushed?”

“A little.”

“That’s too bad.”


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