“No pressure. Just checkin'. Gotta know if I need to fly up in January.”
“Well, if I move elsewhere, a...friend might be helping with that.”
His eyes narrow. “What kind of friend?”
“A friend-friend.”
“This friend wouldn't happen to be a guy?”
I sigh. “I'm just as likely to be shacking up with a woman if that's what you're getting at.”
“What? No!” A red blush rises on my brother's full cheeks. “I just...I worry, alright?”
“Well, you don't need to. I can handle myself.” Always had.
“Yeah. I know.”
“I gotta go,” I say.
“Right. Take care.” I love you had never really been our style.
“You, too.”
The silence feels heavy, but I resist the urge to put on a record to fill the void.
Why not just stay here? Why not at least try?
For most of my life, I'd had little bandwidth—or income—to do much more than follow the path of least resistance to my next zip code. And each place always felt off, like wearing shoes that don't quite fit, but that your mom assures you you’ll grow into. Except I never grew into any of them. Even so, I tried to make them fit—stuffed the toes with lovers and acquaintances and standing brunch dates, only to find my heels still bled from the blisters.
Maybe this could be different.
True, I hadn't picked Somerville off a list. An opportunity arose and I took it, but it wasn't the easiest choice I could have made. For once, I had the benefit of both time and resources, and I still chose this.
“Why not?” I say aloud.
I text Cillian back.
The joy of being self-employed is making my own schedule...for the most part. What've you got in mind?
Cillian
You'll see. Meet at the Davis Square station. 10:30?
I'll be there.
CHAPTER 9
Cillian
My palms are sweating.Actually fucking sweating.
I shoot a text to my group chat with Lucy and Oliver.
Is this overkill?
I flick my lighter open and closed, pulling nicotine deep into my lungs while I wait for one of them to respond.
Oliver
