Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
The apartment was one long rectangle, with the living room and kitchen in the center, flanked by hallways on either side. The cat had run off to the left, and Everett was already searching the home office, so I continued past it to my bedroom.
When I crouched down and looked under the bed, a pair of yellow eyes stared back at me. I got up and called, “Found him.” Everett joined me a moment later, and I stepped back and gestured at the cat’s hiding place. “He’s under there.”
He dropped onto his belly and told the cat, “I know this has been a lot, so take your time, Phil. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to come out.” Then he shifted around so he was sitting cross-legged on the area rug and asked me, “Is this my room?”
“It’s mine, actually. Roger planned for you to use his bedroom, which is at the opposite end of the apartment. But I know this is weird, and I won’t be offended if you decide to stay someplace else.”
“I can’t do that to Phil. He just spent all day cooped up in my SUV, after leaving his home behind. The last thing he needs is another drive and yet another unfamiliar place.”
“No, you’re right.”
Everett looked up at me. “I know the last time we met was a train wreck, and it’s definitely a surprise to see you again. But what happened back in February was nothing more than a series of accidents, right? It’s not like you set out to—”
“Of course not. I obviously didn’t plan on any of that.”
“Let’s start over. I’m Everett Daley, but most people call me Ever.” When we shook hands, his grip was firm, bordering on overly assertive.
“Tracy Garcia.”
“Good to meet you, Tracy.” He indicated our surroundings and asked, “Did you recently move in?”
“No. I’ve been here about two years.”
“It’s so empty.”
Roger had stripped down his guest room before I moved in, under the assumption that I’d decorate it to suit my taste. But I’d left it exactly like I found it—with nothing but blank, gray walls, a gray-on-gray striped area rug, and a sleek, black bedroom set. The only decorative thing was the chrome lamp on the nightstand, which was Roger’s.
All I said to that was, “I don’t have a lot of stuff.” It was too complicated to explain that no matter how friendly and welcoming Roger had been, this place always felt temporary. Actually, just about everyplace I’d ever lived had felt that way, so what was the point in trying to make it feel like home?
He just nodded. A few moments ticked by, and I asked, “Do you want some help bringing up the rest of your stuff?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I want to focus on Phil for now. Do you mind if I hang out in here until he’s ready to come out from under the bed?”
“That’s fine.”
“Awesome. And is it okay if I spread some of his things throughout the apartment? I want this place to start to feel familiar to him.”
“Do whatever you want.” After another awkward pause, I told him, “There’s actually somewhere I need to be, so I’ll leave you to it. Your keys are on the kitchen counter, and I’ll see you later.”
“Oh. Okay. See you later, then.”
With that, I plucked my denim jacket from the closet and fled. I obviously couldn’t avoid Everett forever, but right now, I needed some time to process this totally unexpected turn of events.
Once I was out of the apartment, I sent a text to my friend Vee: Hey, is it too late to take you up on your offer of joining you for Sunday dinner?
Vee always chose talking over texting, so it was no surprise when the phone rang in my hand. As soon as I answered it, he exclaimed, “Of course it’s not too late! Come on over. My housemates and I are about to begin happy hour.”
“Great, thanks.”
“You’d mentioned your new roommate was moving in today. You should bring him along.”
“Another time,” I said. “He’s getting settled.”
“What do you think of him?”
“He seems fine, but by some bizarre coincidence, we’d met before.”
“Really? When?”
“We had the hookup from hell back in February.”
“Awkward!”
“Definitely.”
“You know I’m going to need all the juicy details, right?”
“I figured.”
It felt like I’d known Vihaan Khatri forever, but it had actually been about six years. Vee and I had met while working at a resort on Catalina Island, and despite having nothing in common, we’d grown close. That was all down to him, because he was extremely outgoing and made friends everywhere he went.
When he told me he was moving to San Francisco a few weeks ago, I’d put him in touch with some acquaintances who had a room to rent in a funky pink Victorian near Dolores Park. He fit in perfectly and already considered his six housemates family.