"So what, now we're going to live together?" Jamie takes another step towards me. "That's your idea of a good plan?"
Unwilling to back down, I poke a finger at his chest. "This is my family's house. Not yours. I have every right to be here."
"Newsfl...
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Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting on the sidewalk outside what was supposed to be the first step towards my new life, surrounded by my boxes and the three pieces of furniture I’d brought from home. Simon and Arvo should look into starting their own moving business. They’re scarily efficient.
I call Enzo first, then Amanda, then my parents. No one picks up. Panic sets in. I can’t call an Uber, there’s no way my stuff will fit, and I can’t just leave it here. I wouldn’t put it past the alien hunters to light it all on fire and dance around the ashes. A scroll through my contacts reveals that all of my friends live too far away, and everyone I know from the island is either fast asleep or would be very weirded out to get a phone call from me, asking for a ride back to my parents’ house for me and all my worldly belongings.
There’s only one person I can think of who’s nearby, owns a truck, and is definitely awake at this hour. The only thing that helps me get up the nerve to call him is the thought of spending the night out here and having Simon try to peel my face off while I sleep. That option seems slightly more awful.
Jamie answers on the first try. “Hello?”
His voice isn’t rough from sleep, which means I was right. He still stays up all night. I try not to dwell on that.
“Hey. Hello. What’s up.” I cringe at my own stiffness.
“Lissa, it’s one in the morning. Why are you calling me?”
I cast my eyes upwards and take deep, calming breaths. Try to focus on anything except what I know I have to say. Wow, look at those stars. So starry. Is that the big dipper? Or the little dipper? I never learned the difference between those two.
“Hello? Lissa?”
I force the words out. “I need your help.”
He shows up in his pickup truck, wearing utility pants and a soft looking t-shirt that’s covered in wood shavings. He must have been working. He got his carpenter’s certificate two years ago but I still haven’t seen any of the houses he’s fixed up. For one second, I’m curious. Is he good at it?
Then he climbs out and says, “Nice PJs,” and I remember who I’m dealing with.
“Garfield is a classic. Get educated.”
He surveys the stacks piled around me. “Just what did you get yourself into this time?”
I lift my chin defiantly. “This is absolutely not my fault. My roommate kicked me out.”
“Why, what’d you do?” His grin is way too smug.
“I didn’t do anything,” I snap. “Apparently Rebecca’s part of a cult that thinks I’m an alien because of that stupid scar I got from Ricky, which her friends helpfully pointed out to her after sneaking into my bedroom while I was sleeping. So after accusing me of stealing someone’s face and assaulting me with their terrible fashion choices, they moved all my stuff out and literally kicked me to the curb.”
Jamie’s eyebrows have climbed halfway up his face by the time I’m done with the story. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, and considering I’ve known you for eight years, that says a lot.”
“Oh ha ha, so funny. Mock the homeless girl.”
Jamie shakes his head. “Why didn’t you just call the police? They’re not allowed to evict you for no reason, it’s a breach of contract.”
I bite my cheek. “It would probably have helped if I remembered to, you know… sign. The contract.”
“And there it is.” He leans down to grab one of my boxes, lifting it easily. “In case you’ve ever wondered why these things happen to you, that’s the reason.”
The criticism hits a nerve. I don’t want to be talked down to, especially not by him. I get enough of that from my siblings.
“Everyone forgets stuff, Keller.” I say his name like it’s a pointy object I can stab between his ribs.
“Not stuff like this.” He throws the box in his truckbed with all the gentleness of a WWE wrestler. “And not everyone.”
You seemed to do a pretty good job of forgetting me.
I stuff the traitorous thought down. We don’t talk about that. We toss jabs at each other, snarky ‘can’t believe I used to date you’ comments, but nothing deep. No rehashing what went down. It’s the silent rule, never officially put in place, but neither of us have broken it. Not since I came home.
It dawns on me that I’m back to square one with my living situation: I still have to find my own place, and the only other place I want to live is, shall we say, infested. But maybe Jamie could be persuaded to leave? I won’t know without asking.
“So, my parents told me you’re fixing up Meryem’s house,” I say in a hopefully casual tone, picking up my clothes bin.
Jamie glances sideways at me. “Yeah.”
“And you’re living there.”
“What, did you need an address for the sniper?”
I bat my eyelashes innocently. “Just came up in casual conversation. Are you staying there because you don’t have anywhere else?”
“None of your business.”
“Because I heard this lovely spot just opened up. The population is a bit, well, insane, but I bet you’d—”
“Give it up.” He slides a piece of my bed frame into the truck. “I know what you want, and I’m not moving out.”
I plant my hands on my hips. “Why not?”
“Because I like my setup, and I’m not going to throw it all away for a spoiled kid who doesn’t know how to take care of herself.” He flicks my nose, not painful, but incredibly condescending.
I sound like the best friend’s bratty sister, not the angry ex, when I tell him, “You’re a jerk, but I need your help so I’ll let you get away with it.”
“Lissa-speak for thank you,” he says sarcastically, tossing my laundry hamper in like it’s a sack of potatoes. “You’re lucky you’ve got so many people at your beck and call, because you wouldn’t make it a day on your own.”
“Puh-lease.” I set my box down gently with a take notes look at Jamie. “Don’t pretend like you're not going to hold this over my head.”
“You’re right. You owe me.” He throws the next box in even more roughly than the first. He’s definitely doing it on purpose.
I grit my teeth. “But what could I, the helpless disaster, possibly offer you?”
“Oh, I’ll think of something.” Jamie leans in, his eyes glinting dangerously. “And rest assured, it will be painful.”
My smile is as fake as Christy’s hair color. “If it involves you, I’m sure it will be.”
It takes us ten minutes to finish loading the truck, and we spend the entire time snipping at each other. The thought of him living in my great-aunt’s house while I’ve got nowhere to go is beyond frustrating. However, I get the last laugh, because on the way home, I text Rebecca.
Sorry things didn’t work out. My friend Jamie is super interested in your group. Here’s his # and address. He’d love for you guys to stop by sometime and tell him all about it.
