4. Mia
MIA
"Don't eat that," a voice said from behind me. Guiltily, I set the jar of peanut butter back on the shelf and stepped out of the pantry.
Jenna leaned against the counter in black leggings and a soft pink sweatshirt that looked both cozy and classy. Her platinum blonde hair was cut in a short, choppy bob that I was envious of. My wavy strands rarely cooperated.
She frowned. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. When I was nine, I had a foster mother who said that practically every time I took a bite.”
“Because of the expense or the calories?"
She shrugged. "Both. You know the type. She scrutinized everything I ate and said it was because she wanted me to be healthy. I think she just wanted to save money."
"I definitely know the type." I’d encountered more than one foster parent like that. And once a very bossy foster sibling.
I leaned against the doorframe. I was glad to see Jenna.
I hadn't seen her since the meeting Friday night even though our rooms both opened to a shared a bathroom. I hadn’t heard anything from her side, so I suspected she’d been out.
And last night, I’d been out. I’d had dinner with Tori and Jayden and regaled them with the tale of Aaron and I wrestling the mattress into submission.
"Anyway, that peanut butter is on Evan's shelf, so it's off-limits.”
Oh, Evan. He was the one who’d been sitting next to her on the sofa at the welcome meeting.
"Sorry, I didn’t know."
"Of course you didn’t.” She squeezed past me and into the narrow pantry. The faint overhead light did little to illuminate the dusty shelves. “These really should be labeled. I think they were at some point."
She squinted up at an empty top shelf. "I guess that’s yours." She frowned, reaching up to touch it. "Maybe you could trade with one of the taller guys.”
“They’re all taller. Taller than us, at any rate."
Jenna grinned. She was about 5’5”, my height. “Yeah, they are, aren’t they? The only one I don’t have to crane my neck to look in the eye is Cody, and maybe that’s just because I never see him. So one of them has got to be willing to trade. If not, ask Diego. He’ll make someone."
Yeah, I wasn’t planning to ask Diego for favors anytime soon. Every single time I saw him increased the risk that he’d remember our encounter at the party. “Thank you for letting me know."
"Sure." She gave me a friendly smile, and we returned to the kitchen. "I’m glad you’re here. It’s been kind of lonely being the only woman. Well, not that I’m here very much."
"I didn’t see you or Evan at all yesterday."
"Evan went to his parents’ house for the weekend. And I’m usually always at Seth’s place. My boyfriend.” She threw me an apologetic look. “It’s not that I’m trying to abandon you in a house full of guys, but?—”
“I understand.” If I had a boyfriend, I’d want to spend as much time as I could with him, too.
"It’s a shame that other girl didn’t show up."
"Yes, it is," I said lightly. I didn’t want to think about Sara right now, it was still too upsetting. "Where does your boyfriend live?"
"He’s got an apartment down by the riverwalk. I stay there most nights. He comes here sometimes, but it’s easier for us to hang out there. More private.” The gleam in her eye showed that she really valued her private time with Seth.
"Wouldn’t it be easier to move in?” I asked, then flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in.”
She waved off my apology. “No, you’re right, it would be much easier, and I’d love to, but his parents would disown him. They’re not big fans of me—or probably any woman who dated their precious son."
I laughed. "I know the type."
"But you’ll be fine here. I was the only woman for weeks before you joined us. They’re good guys. Friendly, but if you have any problems, go to Diego."
"Okay.” Yeah, I’d do that when hell froze over.
“I’m serious. He takes good care of us. And god knows, he’s a cutie. Have you seen his ass?”
My cheeks heated so quickly that I thought someone had lit a match. “No,” I squeaked, which was the truth. That was one of the few parts of him I hadn’t run my hands over at the party—only because he’d been sitting down.
Jenna saw me blush and laughed. “Sorry. We’re probably not supposed to think of him that way, but it’s a little hard not to. Don’t tell Seth I said that.”
It was definitely time to change the subject. "At the meeting, they said there was some kind of system about the kitchen?"
"Right, yes. So anything out here in these cupboards, the fridge—that’s all communal food."
I frowned. "But who buys it?"
"There’s a delivery every week, paid for by the Baylor Foundation. They provide all the staples. Anything you want beyond that, you buy yourself and put your name on it if it goes in the fridge or stash it on your shelf... if you can reach it. And then Tuesday night, we all eat together."
"We do?" That was news to me. Of course, all of this was.
"Yes. Each week, a different person takes a turn cooking."
"Cooking?" I said faintly, alarm bells ringing in my head. "I’m not a very good cook."
"Don’t worry about it. All you have to do is provide something edible. It doesn’t have to be good or fancy. Hell, for my turn, I just made a charcuterie board with extra pepperoni and stuff I thought the guys would like. No one complained."
The thought of having to cook for a bunch of strangers was still terrifying.
Maybe I could claim that my religion forbade eating?
Or maybe I could get some help. Tori’s friend Hailey knew how to cook, and I seemed to remember that she’d helped Tori improve her kitchen skills, too.
Currently, mine consisted of simple things like boiling water, pouring milk over cereal, and toasting bread. Was a toast bar a thing?
Jenna didn’t seem to notice my dread. "I think everyone’s already taken a turn so far, except Cody. Maybe he’ll be next?"
It was hard to imagine Cody coming out of his room for meals, but maybe that was because I’d only just barely caught a glimpse of him this weekend. I guessed Aaron was right, the guy really was a recluse. But Aaron had also said he was a friend.
Jenna crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. “Want one?”
I shook my head.
She popped open hers. "My room’s on the top floor, just to the right of the stairwell. Feel free to stop by whenever you’d like. If I’m here, that is.” The smile that took over her face presumably meant she was thinking about her boyfriend. But then she sighed. “I wish it weren’t Sunday.”
“Do you have an early class tomorrow?”
"No, it’s just every Sunday night, Seth has dinner with his parents." She made a face that I understood perfectly, even though I’d never had a real boyfriend like she did.
"Thank you for filling me in before I committed peanut butter theft,” I said.
"You’re welcome." She smiled, her nearly white hair bouncing as she walked out. “Hope you like it here!”
I hoped I did, too.
But it probably didn’t matter. Once it was my turn to cook a meal, I was sure to be voted out of the house the very next day.