29
I think she’ll work,” Laura said a week later, plopping down on one of the couches in the common room and kicking her feet up on the armrest. Despite the freezing rain that fell outside the window, she wasn’t wearing socks, her pink toenails cracked and longer than seemed comfortable or even healthy. “It’s just four months.”
MC leaned her elbow on the bar-style countertop. “If you want to interview other people, I have a guy who’s free later today.”
Laura frowned. “Guys are gross.”
“Just don’t want you to feel pressured.”
MC had told Laura she wanted to come off the lease right after the confrontation with the protestors.
She’d put up a Craigslist ad for short-term subletters and gotten about a dozen replies in the span of an hour.
Laura hadn’t been pleased with MC’s decision, but MC had done her best to make the transition as smooth as possible, vetting her replacements online and coordinating with Laura to set up interviews in person.
MC would’ve preferred to do it all remotely, but Laura insisted that she could only “catch a vibe” when someone was right in front of her.
It was a small mercy that Pat and Zeke were working at the bike shop on the day Laura and MC were free to meet Tyla, a British bombshell who’d started a prestigious MFA in fiction back in the fall and had just broken up with her lover. Tyla’s word.
Laura gave MC a long look, her red hair shimmering from a rare but thorough brushing she’d performed while MC had made more coffee. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Who?”
“Your weird friend. He’s the reason you’re leaving.”
“Oh, no, not at all.”
She’d told Laura there was a family crisis going on at home, and she would need to be in Green Hills for a few weeks more.
Maybe even another month. No, she didn’t know when she would be coming back.
And she didn’t want to string Laura and Pat and Zeke along for months, only to end up coming off the lease anyway.
“You guys seemed pretty tense the last time he was here,” Laura said.
MC practiced letting go of the urge to downplay. “We’re in a rough patch,” she admitted. “But moving back home for a while is a bigger decision for me. It’s not about Joe.”
It was about everything her life had become.
The striving she didn’t buy into and the comfort of living in Joe’s shadow, which now seemed like a continuation of living in Conrad’s, but with someone who was nicer to her about it.
It wasn’t Joe’s fault—or her brother’s. It was just a status quo she hadn’t believed herself capable of moving past. And now that status quo was shattered.
“Well,” Laura said, “you’ve been a chill roommate.”
“Thanks. You too.”
“By the way, I have a book for you.” Laura hopped off the couch and went through the glass doors into her bedroom, which was meant to be the living room but had been taken over as a sleeping space so they could all pay sub-market rent.
When she came back out, she handed MC a book with one of those color ful, cutesy illustrations, a trio of figures in front of what looked like the Seattle skyline.
“It’s a poly rom-com,” she said. “They’re working for a VR dating startup. ”
“Oh, cool. Thank you.” It was called Three’s Company . “Did you ever...”—MC’s voice trailed off. If Laura had read MC’s article, or connected it to MC, she would’ve said something—“get involved in the fandoms around some of these books?”
“No.”
MC nodded. “Me neither.”
It felt good to remember that the trolls and the superfans were a minority.
That most people inhaled a book like Girl Next Door and moved on to the next one just as quickly.
Even the readers who paid attention to a spectacle like MC’s article in Jawbreaker would be distracted by something else soon enough.
MC said goodbye to Laura and bundled herself against the rain.
She’d have to come back to put her things in storage in a few weeks.
But it might as well have been her final moment in the apartment—everything just as it was, except for the emptiness of her closet.
She wondered if she was making a mistake, giving up a relatively inexpensive situation with not-the-worst roommates to float around with Conrad until Gabby maybe, hopefully, decided to move back in someday.
They’d started going to couples therapy, so that seemed promising.
MC reminded herself that she had a plan.
Or more of a plan than she’d had before.
She’d decided to apply to teaching programs for real.
Probably at state schools, and ideally for no longer than a year.
Her work with Explorations felt like the only thing she’d done in a long time that was hers alone, even if it wasn’t always perfect, and even if she’d started out doing it as yet another favor.
She had no illusions that a real teaching job was as cushy as an impromptu, now-and-then club advisorship.
But she liked working with teenagers. A lot more than she liked crafting muscular prose about business capabilities.
She was heading toward the subway entrance on Eastern Parkway, her hood cinched around her face, when she saw Joe sitting in the coffee shop where Lisa used to work.
He was with Tyler, his record-long squeeze of four months, their custom high-tops kicking together under the café table.
The glass was fogged. But Joe looked happy.
Just after she’d passed, she heard her name. Joe was running after her, no coat, his velour crewneck sweatshirt getting spattered with what MC’s weather app had called “wintry mix.”
“There you are,” he said breathlessly.
“You should get back inside,” she said.
He crossed his arms and ducked into the covered entryway of an apartment building. “I hate this,” he said.
“I’m not going to ignore you forever.” She toed the stone trim. “I just need time.”
“Time for what?”
She shrugged. “To figure my shit out.”
“With Nora?”
“With everything.”
“You don’t actually believe it’s possible to figure everything out, do you?”
“No. But I feel like there’s some baseline stuff you can pin down.”
“It’s just... haven’t you already done that?”
“Not even close.”
“Okay, fine.” He bounced on his heels, one of his curls falling from its sculpted sweep to dangle across his brow. “Can’t you do it here, though? With me?”
“I don’t think so.” The curl was killing her, reminding her of the noodley mop he’d had through most of high school.
It was like they were always still kids somehow, no matter what their apartments looked like or how many times they got their hearts broken.
“I’m finding a subletter for my place,” she added.
His mouth hung open. “For how long?”
“Indefinitely.”
He put his hands on his head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Me neither. But you should go get warm. I’m trying to make a train.”
“You’re just... living at home?”
“For now.”
“Bleak,” he muttered.
“Don’t let me keep you.” MC forced herself to smile. “Looks like you and Tyler are going strong.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “We’re not exclusive or anything.”
“Well, I wish you luck.”
“Can I at least get a hug?”
“Fine.”
They held each other close. Things weren’t okay between them.
MC was still upset over everything, especially the class year debacle with Seth.
But she was also too emotionally exhausted to make a stink over it.
And she was thinking about how Gabby had forgiven her, and was trying to forgive Conrad.
MC wanted forgiveness in her life. To believe in it, even if she couldn’t always give it a hundred percent, or get it a hundred percent.
“Keep in touch, please,” he said, resting the side of his head against hers.
“If I unblock you, do you promise not to bombard me?”
“Hm... I’ll do my best.”
“Maybe in a little while you’ll come visit.”
He drew back, looking scandalized. “Me, in Green Hills?”
“You could come to an Explorations meeting. Talk about Jawbreaker. Convince the youth that not all digital media is soulless and transient.”
Joe smirked. “Wouldn’t I be lying?”
“Not entirely.” She shrugged. “It’s a nice group.”
“To see you, it might just be worth it.”
She rubbed his arms. “Go inside, fool. Your hair is getting ruined.”
“Okay, fine.” He ran off, stopping at the corner to look for her over his shoulder. She waved, and he waved back, and kept running.