I was the loner, the one who lived with his grandma and had no parents, the one who couldn’t make friends because said grandma wasn’t social at school, and the other parents didn’t want their kids hanging out with people they didn’t know.
I never blamed my grandma for that. She did the best she could with her health issues. She took me to school every day so I didn’t get bullied on the bus. She made me lunches so no one would take my lunch money—though there were plenty of days where they just took the lunch. She was the best grandma in the world, and I owed everything to her.
When she passed away the year before I graduated high school, Enzo made his family take me in until I turned eighteen, and then we found the loft.
Back when we found this place, it was a dump, but we could afford it. Now, twelve years later and many renovations between our landlord and us, the price of living in Denver has skyrocketed, and we had to invite others to join us.
Luckily, we had no shortage of friends to do so.
Derek moved in after he got out of the Army from a bad shoulder, which worked out for him and us when he started to help his dad run their family hardware store. Garrett also joined us after he got out of the military, but he makes the trek up to Littleton for his job. Then there was Warren, who lived with us and walked to his old job at the Leads Energy building. He’s since moved in with his girlfriend and quit his job.
I sigh in envy. What I wouldn’t give to have a job that paid well enough to stop doing random crap ones around town. Warren earned his way to his success though, and I try not to begrudge him that.
“Man, they hired another fucking chef. Like I don’t have enough competition. I just want to make head chef so I can take over and make the changes in that damn place that will be better for everyone.”
“Damn, that sucks, dude.” Enzo’s been working at his restaurant for about a year and a half or so, working his way to the top.
“I’m thinking of quitting.”
My brows shoot skyward and I scoff out a disbelieving laugh. “No way. You’ve been working your ass off.”
“And for what?” He shrugs in a careless way I don’t normally see. Enzo is a laid-back guy, but when it comes to his work, he takes it very seriously. “All I want to do is take care of people. Feed them good food and give them something they can remember.”
I don’t have quite the right words for him. I can see him struggling with this decision, and I bite my tongue on what I was going to ask of him.
Watching Enzo turn back and aggressively finish the breakfast, I know there’s no way in hell I can ask for help with rent this month.
I’m just gonna have to find something else… somehow.
“Archie! How are you?” I stiffen as Enzo’s little sister, Viviana, comes at me, arms wide open. But I don’t shy away from the hug, letting her scent wrap around me and her arms squeeze me tight.
“I’m alright.” She pulls back, and reluctantly, I let go. My eyes drift over her golden skin and dark hair. Her hazel eyes search mine in earnest, but there’s a tinge of red around her eyelids that suggest she’s been crying. “Are you doing okay?”
In typical Viviana fashion, she waves off my concern. “Of course! I’m great! How’s work?”
I take a step back and follow her into the living room where most of our friends are gathered around for game night.
We do this every Thursday, or as many Thursdays as we can get together, where everyone and their significant other, if they have them, comes over and we hang out, drink, eat food and play some sort of game. Our personal favorite is Shot Charades, but that one can get out of hand fast.
You get enough guesses wrong and you’ll be feeling like you’re on a Tilt-A-Whirl ride at Elitch Gardens.
“Work’s alright,” I murmur and watch Viviana get enveloped into the fold, immediately launching into conversation with Jane, April, and Jane’s coworker and a newer addition to our group, Molly.
Derek grabs her attention and reminds her of the toilet procedure. I roll my eyes, it’s not like he can’t just fix it, but I would swear he uses the “jiggle the handle” talk just to get the women’s attention.
This happens just about every time I see Viv. I try to squeeze in a few words with her, but once she’s around everyone else, they all pull at her attention. She’s like a magnet for all of us, getting her attention is like a prize.
The thing about Viv is that every time you talk to her, she keeps her focus solely on you. The other thing is, when she was in middle school, some jackass named Marcus Downing had the balls to tell her that she was an annoying little sister and hanging around Enzo and his friends wasn’t cool.
This made her feel horrible, and while Enzo assured her she was fine—as did I—she stopped hanging out with us altogether.
Marcus Downing also came to school the next day with a split lip and a black eye. Though no one knows who did that…
Even as adults, Viviana keeps her conversations with Enzo’s friends short unless they ask for advice or need help with their marketing.
Every time she cuts me off to go talk to someone else, it frustrates the hell out of me.
Before that fateful time with Downing, Viv and I would have tons to talk about. We liked the same types of books—YA fantasy, at least, at the time—we loved the same movies and could talk about them for hours. We had a similar sense of humor, could hang out and laugh about the most random shit for hours.