3. Hadley
Hadley
“T ell me your thoughts,” Katie says. “We can say no—I mean, I can say no.” Katie, Hannah, and I are sitting in the living room, two mostly empty pizza boxes in front of us.
I picked them up on my way home after Katie texted asking us to meet with her tonight.
I had thought maybe like me, she was realizing how little time we’ve spent together and was hoping to hang out, instead, it’s been an impromptu roommate meeting to discuss the possibility of her brother moving in.
Hannah pushes her glasses up a little higher on her nose. “You have to let him move in. He’s your brother.”
Katie scoffs. “It’s not like he’s being put out on the streets. He has a perfectly good room; he just doesn’t want to live there.”
“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.
Me: We just finished pizza, and I’m not sure what we’re going to do.
Lanie: Well, whatever you decide to do, have fun … but not too much fun—it’s only Thursday. LOVE YOU!
I put the leftovers away, toss our empty boxes into the compost bin, and head upstairs.
Once dressed and ready for bed, I start reviewing lasagna recipes.
Lasagna has always been one of my favorite comfort foods but making it has always intimidated me.
Right now, overcoming one of my fears seems essential to my sanity.
I grab my notebook and read over recipes and reviews, jotting down tips and ideas from over a dozen of the best-rated lasagnas before falling asleep.
I awaken with a start. My bedroom is too bright and my eyes are too well-rested. I glance at my alarm clock and notice it’s flashing from a power outage.
I quietly curse and push off my blankets as I grab my cell phone, knowing I’m late before it confirms my first class starts in just twenty minutes.
I scramble to my closet and pull on a pair of shorts and a tee before dashing across the hall to brush my teeth and wrangle my hair into a knot before heading back to my room where I shove my laptop and textbook into my bag and struggle to find a matching pair of shoes.
Downstairs, I drop my bag into an empty chair and cross to the fridge, looking for something to eat because while coffee is my life juice, breakfast makes me functional.
Everything that stares back at me requires time and heating, two things I don’t have, so I grab a cold coffee, close the fridge, and pull open the bread drawer.
“I heard you’re the one I have to thank for letting me move in.” The deep voice catches my attention before Hannah’s giggle throws me for a complete loop. Hannah hasn’t giggled once in the year I’ve known her.
My roommate steps out of the doorway beside me that leads down to the basement, grinning at a guy that towers over her.
I notice his smile first. It’s practically magnetic, pulling my attention and focus to note that his lips pull slightly higher on the right side and though his lips are probably too thin for most to consider sumptuous, he has great lips that are only enhanced by the squareness of his unshaven jaw.
He has the mouth of a model. Of men that are given ridiculous titles like ‘sexiest man alive’ . He has a mouth made for sin.
His eyes shift to mine under heavy brows that somehow make him seem even more masculine. His eyes are a vibrant, dark shade of blue that’s striking and nearly as distracting as his mouth.
“I didn’t know you were home,” Hannah says. “Nolan this is Hadley. Hadley this is Nolan. I thought you had an early class?”
My heart arrests in my chest. Nolan. Roommate Nolan. Katie’s brother Nolan. Impulsive Nolan. Of course, he can be reckless and feed on temptation—with looks and muscles and lips like his—god, even his hair is perfect—he can afford to be impulsive.
Sweet baby Jesus, why does he have to look so good?
I pull my gaze away from Nolan and work to clear my thoughts of the inhumanly nice features. “My alarm didn’t go off. The power must have gone off last night. It was flashing when I woke up.”
“Sorry,” Nolan’s voice is a deep baritone that makes something— everything —inside of me take note of him again. “That was my fault. I was trying to see if a fuse was blown downstairs and flipped the wrong breaker.”
“They weren’t marked,” Hannah adds, as though defending his actions, and I realize how close she’s standing to him, recall the way she didn’t protest him moving in, how she was giggling just seconds ago. Does she have a crush on Nolan?
I shake my head to rid the thoughts that threaten to spiral to me into memories of last year. This isn’t last year. Nolan isn’t Ezra, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to be April. No way. “It’s fine.” I hold up my coffee and dry bagel. “I have to go.”
“You don’t use your cell phone as your alarm clock?” Nolan asks.