“Why doesn’t he want to live there?” I ask.
Katie rolls her eyes. I can tell she wants to say no to this idea—correction, she wants us to say no—because, under Katie’s tough exterior and sarcasm, she’s a teddy bear. “He doesn’t even have a good excuse.”
“We have the extra room this year,” Hannah says, catching me off guard. She hasn’t asked a single question or voiced any doubts. Hannah’s certainly easier going than Katie, but she’s often motivated by practicality and realism and the idea of a guy—even someone’s brother—moving in with us seems like a plausible violation of all level-headedness, especially considering that when our landlord told us they were replacing our fridge due to an ongoing electrical issue last winter, she spent the week prior going over every nuance and fearing for the worst—that the technicians might be dangerous, that someone wouldn’t be able to make it to the house on time to let them in, that the food would go bad—her list of concerns was extensive, and yet, she’s relaxed and unfazed as she reaches for another slice of pizza.
“You’ve been quiet,” Katie says, moving her attention to me. “What do you think?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know him,” I say. “It’s kind of hard to assess judgment.” The only things I know about Katie’s brother are a few brief stories she’s shared about him being impulsive and occasionally reckless. They seem like warning signs, but also have that culmination of boredom and nerves that have been strumming through me, hopeful of getting a second-degree hit off his bad decisions and questionable outcomes if he stays with us whether through hearing his stories or witnessing the repercussions of them.
“He wouldn’t be here that often,” Katie says. “He’s at practice and classes most of the day. He’d mostly just be here at night to sleep.”
Hannah shrugs. “Then it won’t get in the way of my schedule.” By this, she means her morning hour of meditation when the house has to be silent.
“What about his girlfriend?” I ask. “Do you like her? Is she nice? Sometimes girls can be so damn vicious.”
Katie scoffs. “Nolan doesn’t know the definition of monogamy.”
“Does that mean he’s going to bring random girls over?” Hannah asks, finally sounding apprehensive.
Katie shakes her head. “No. I will be sure he understands he can’t bring any girls here. He’d be here for a month, tops. And I would add him to the chore chart rotation. Also, I’ve already told him you two are fully off-limits. He’s not allowed to set foot upstairs, but I don’t want either of you to be uncomfortable or feel obligated. You can say no.” She looks between us, her expression filled with unease and a hint of guilt.
“I vote yes,” Hannah says. “Especially if he’ll answer the door to any solicitors. I nearly got talked into setting up a meeting to have solar panels installed on the house, yesterday.”
“We don’t own the house,” Katie says.
“And we already have solar panels,” I add.
“Which is why I hate answering the door,” Hannah says.
Katie blows out a laugh as she shakes her head, and slowly turns to me for my vote.
I know I’d never be able to tell Geoff or Lanie no if I were in her shoes. “If you guys are okay with him living here, then so am I.”
Katie looks mildly relieved and simultaneously disappointed. “If he does anything that makes either of you uncomfortable or upsets you, just let me know. He doesn’t have to live here, and I don’t want to put either of you out.”
“It won’t,” Hannah says resolutely. “I am fine with him moving in.”
Katie shakes her head. “Hopefully, we’ll barely see him. He basically lives at the gym.” She pulls out her phone. “I’ll let him know he can come by tomorrow to drop stuff off.” She pauses, glancing at the remains of our dinner. “Do you want help cleaning this up?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”
Hannah stands as well. “I’ve got tons of homework, and there’s a competition in one of my online games. Thanks for picking up dinner.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
I watch them disappear upstairs before leaning back in my seat. Last year after I learned April was sleeping with Ezra, anger and betrayal kept me company for the last couple of weeks before the school year ended. I returned home to Vegas days later, where I went to work every day, seeing my family and the few friends from high school I keep in touch with. Now, I feel as isolated as I did after that horrific speech in the seventh grade.
I pull out my phone to text Lanie.
Me: I tried your strange pizza combination.
Lanie: Did you love it? Or is this just a pregnancy thing, like how I can’t stand the scent of my shampoo anymore? Christian won’t try it.
Me: I was expecting to hate it, but it turns out jalapenos, cilantro, pineapple, and barbecue sauce marry well together.
Lanie: YES!! I might pick some more up for dinner. Christian and I are going to get drinks with some friends. What are you doing tonight? Party? Hot date? Friends?
My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I glance at our mostly empty pizza takeout and empty living room.