Chapter 5
Of all the ideas my parents have conceived over the years, this must be the worst one yet—for me, at least.
Lingering there completely stunned, I take a moment to absorb the fact that Theo-freaking-Pearson is going to be living under the same roof as me, and the contents of my stomach creep up my throat like I’ve just plummeted down the first hill of a roller coaster.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to contain the panic growing inside. I’d strategized everything so intricately—blend into the background, focus on grades, avoid spotlight. Now? I’ll have to share a bathroom with the walking definition of unnecessary attention.
My safe haven, my sanctuary from the social battlefield of high school, invaded by Theo and his impossible-to-ignore presence. My cheeks burst into flames at the possibility of him witnessing my morning zombie shuffle to the bathroom, hair sticking up in fifty different directions.
And what if he brings even a fraction of his social circle into my orbit? I fear my days of cruising under anyone’s radar are over. This arrangement isn’t just inconvenient—it’s a disaster in the making.
Theo’s mom pulls me out of my thoughts by flinging her arms around me in a close hug. “Just look at you, Chrissy,” she says, giving me a good squeeze. “You’re all grown up—and so pretty.”
I manage a smile. “Thanks, Mrs. Pearson.”
“It’s been way too long,” she says, stepping back with a wistful expression.
She’s right. I haven’t seen Theo’s family in years, but with their new house only a short distance away, that’s all about to change.
Theo’s dad shakes my hand with a friendly grin, and then my dad dives into a discussion about the sleeping arrangements.
“The guest bedroom downstairs will be for you both,” dad says to Mr. and Mrs. Pearson, “and we’ll put Theo in the spare room upstairs. It’s right down the hall from Chrissy’s room.”
Oh, sure, what a fantastic idea!
Why wasn’t I consulted about this? I look at mom, whose face makes it clear my wardrobe choices are under scrutiny now that a boy is to live with us.
I sigh. Goodbye my days of comfort and walking around in underwear. Goodbye ketchup-stained T-shirts and frizzy hair. As the French would put it, I bid you adieu.
Theo turns to me with a playful smirk, amusement evident in his eyes. “Told you we’d talk later.”
That’s not the kind of “talk later” I had envisioned. He could’ve warned me.
“Are you two getting along well in school?” Theo’s mom asks, her eyes darting between the two of us.
I toss Theo a “Care to take this one?” look.
He hesitates for a moment. “Um . . . yeah, but we barely see each other. Different classes and all.” He gives a casual shrug.
Different classes? Yeah, right!—more like different social standings.
“They’ll have plenty of time to catch up,” mom says, nudging Theo’s parents toward the kitchen. “Chrissy, honey, why don’t you show Theo upstairs?”
I turn to face him and his perfectly aligned teeth. What’s he smiling about, anyway? My pulse picks up pace. This is a crisis unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
He hefts his suitcase up as though he’s ready to check into a hotel. “Lead the way.”
We climb to the second floor, and I open the door to what used to be dump-your-stuff-here space after my sister moved out. Mom must have cleared the boxes from the room because it’s tidy, with a bed and dresser—bare minimum of furniture.
Theo steps in and places his suitcase down, surveying the room with a critical eye.
“This used to be Maisie’s room,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
Theo nods, running his hand along the edge of the dresser. “How is your sister these days?”
“She’s a teacher at Colton Hayes Elementary School down in Unity Grove.”
“Does she live with her boyfriend?” He glances back at me. “What was his name again?”
“Andy.” The name comes out flat. He was never my favorite.
What I don’t say is that I’m pretty sure things between them have hit a rough patch. Maisie’s been dodging my texts lately, and when she does respond, her messages feel clipped, like she’s hiding something.
Theo crosses to the window and peers out at the backyard, hands shoved in his pockets. “I remember she used to let me play with her art supplies when we were kids. She was always drawing something or writing poems.”
“She still does.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Mostly on weekends now.”
He turns back toward me, and for a second his expression softens into something almost nostalgic. Then that trademark smirk returns. “So, roomie, what are the house rules I should know about?”
Roomie? Oh, that’s not how this will go. He doesn’t know it yet, but we are to be strangers, avoiding each other at each turn.
“Don’t touch my stuff,” I say, crossing my arms. “Don’t hog the bathroom. And definitely don’t bring your fan club over here.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Fan club?”
I scoff. “You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I don’t.” He steps closer, tilting his head. “Enlighten me, Chrissy.”
My pulse picks up pace. He’s standing way too close for comfort, close enough that I catch the faint scent emanating from his body—something woodsy and annoyingly pleasant.
“Just . . . keep your social life at school,” I manage, hating how breathless I sound.
“Deal.” His grin widens and, to my relief, he takes another pass about the room. “So, does this hotel offer any additional amenities?”
I raise an eyebrow as I gesture to the mostly open space. “Welcome to Chateau Lang, where you can enjoy such amenities as . . . self-service everything.”
Theo laughs, his hands tucked deep in the pockets of his jeans as he stops in the middle of the room. “So, no breakfast in bed? No mints on the pillow?”
I cock my head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Hmm. I’ll see if I can dig out an expired mint from the bottom of my bookbag for you.”
His cool smile tells me he’s amused, which catches me off guard. “Guess I’ll have to rough it,” he says, giving the room another look-over before starting to unpack. “Thanks for the five-star tour.”
I step back into the hall, as nonchalant as I can, but unable to deny the strange excitement coursing through me as I shut his door and go to my room. Sharing a home with Theo Pearson? No one would believe it.
Flopping onto my bed, I grab my phone and dial Stephanie.
“Hey! What’s up?” she says.
“Oh, not much,” I reply, doing my best to sound bored. “Except Theo Pearson is living at my house.”
The line goes silent for a moment, and then she shrieks. “What?! Theo Pearson, as in tall, dark, and popular Theo Pearson? In your house? Why are you calling me? You should be all over him.”
“Because I’m freaking out.” I twist onto my belly. “His family’s staying with us until they fix some broken pipe at their new place. He’s down the hall in Maisie’s old room.”
Stephanie laughs, her voice brimming with excitement. “Girl, you’ve got to take full advantage of this. Make some moves!”
“Are you insane? This is already too complicated. What if Paige finds out?”
“Oh, please,” Stephanie says. “Forget her. She doesn’t matter, anyway. When are you going to stop letting her dictate how to run your life?”
“Uh, maybe when I’m not in her crosshairs.” I roll over and stare at the ceiling. “I hope Theo doesn’t blab about this to anyone at school.” I can almost feel the shiver-inducing, cold stares from all the girls if they find out about this.
“He might not,” Stephanie says. “He seems like a decent guy. He’s the only one who stepped in in the lunchroom. But who cares what others think? Just have fun with this.”
“Certainly, let’s invite total disaster into my life, why don’t we?”
“You’re too dramatic. It could be like you are living in your own personal rom-com. Boy moves in with girl. Boy falls for girl’s quirky charm—“
“Yeah, right,” I interrupt, though I can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. “That’s never going to happen.”
“Fine,” she relents with a sigh. “But promise me you’ll at least try to get to know him. Not every popular guy is evil.”
I pause for a moment. “Okay, but if he messes with me, he’s getting the cold shoulder.”
“Good luck with that, girl,” she says, laughing. “You’re gonna need it.”
I shake my head. “I’ve got enough to worry about, Steph. Especially, the wrath of the Queen Bees? No, thanks.”
“Fair point. But still, keep me posted. This is the most exciting thing to happen in like . . . ever.”
We hang up, and I turn on my side.
Anticipation ripples through me, sending a mix of nerves and excitement.
It’s strange—I’m not used to feeling this way about anyone, let alone him.
He’s everything I’m not: popular, confident, with that effortless charm everyone seems to fall for.
And he is right down the hall—yep, I’m definitely in trouble.
I mean, I know I’m invisible to popular guys—just the quiet girl who prefers books to parties and sarcasm to small talk.
But part of me can’t help wondering what it would be like if he looked past all that for a brief moment.
What if he actually saw me? The thought is ridiculous—impossible. And yet, here I am, wishing for it.
I toss onto my back again. The undeniable truth is that we belong in different worlds, and I’ll do what I must to keep our new living arrangement a secret.
***
The next morning, I’m determined to keep things as if nothing has changed. I peek my head out the door to make sure Theo’s room is closed.
So far so good.
I tiptoe past his door, successfully reaching the kitchen without alerting him, where I get to work on a quick breakfast—a toasty bagel. It’s Saturday, so my parents are out on a grocery run.
“Morning!”
I jump like Noah has just popped out from behind a door, scaring the bejesus out of me. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I say, turning to find Theo smiling at me.
“Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. Breakfast is included for guests, right?”
Who does he think I am, his maid?
“Oh, sure.” I grab a piece of plain toast and slide it over to him. “Here you go.”
Theo picks it up, eyeing it like it could be worse. “Plain toast, huh? How luxurious.”
“It’s gourmet,” I say, trying not to laugh. “Exclusive of this establishment.”
He takes a bite, maintaining eye contact as he chews. “If I had known it would be this fancy, I would have booked a stay long ago.”
I roll my eyes, pouring myself some orange juice.
As I take a sip, he says, “You know, people will talk. Us living together.”
My drink goes down the wrong pipe, and tears well up in my eyes as I launch into a coughing frenzy.
He walks over and taps my back. “You okay?”
I nod, catching my breath. “No one will think that.”
Theo leans in with a mischievous smile. “You’re right. They might think we’re dating.”
He takes a step toward me, and I can feel the heat in my face rise. He’s so close that I can make out the faint golden flecks in his green eyes. Make . . . out . . . my gaze falls to his lips, heart galloping.
“Relax, Chrissy,” he says with a wink. “Just messing with you.”
Wait. Has he already figured out what I’m thinking? No, no, no, that’s impossible. I pull myself together and give him a firm shove, pushing him back a step. “Imagine I’m not here, and I’ll do the same,” I say, my voice higher than usual. “No one can know about this.”
He throws his hands up in surrender. “All right, I’ll try to be a ghost.”
Like that could ever work!
As he walks out of the kitchen with a piece of plain toast in his mouth, my heart still pounds like I danced at the studio for a whole hour. I try to shake it off but to no effect.
His living here is not just troublesome. It’s the mother of all crises.