Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Henry

I SPEND THE rest of the day cleaning. The house is pretty barren with just me in it, but that doesn't stop me from anxiously washing my sheets, cleaning every dish, vacuuming the carpet, and wiping down every window until it's so clean a bird might try to fly through it. I don't hear from Alex, and I can't stop thinking about that even during work the next day.

The day after that is no better. I keep checking my phone, but there's no messages. There's nothing. Every time I have a break at the café, I look, hoping I'll have a message from Alex asking if he can come work at my house again.

By Thursday night, my house is so clean it could be a museum, but I still throw on a podcast and clean it again after getting home from the café. There are a couple last spots on the stove I haven't completely obliterated yet. This isn't me coping with wanting to see a guy again, though. Definitely not. If I need to hunt for a roommate, I should keep this place clean, right? No one will want to rent a room in a messy house.

I keep repeating that to myself as I remove shelves from the refrigerator and wipe them down. But I run out of things to clean pretty quickly. I washed the sheets already. I cleaned the back door, the living room … the couch.

I head outside. The mail is the only task I can distract myself with. I really should have gotten into video games when Max still lived here. Not that I can afford a console. So I guess that wouldn't have actually helped at all.

When I get back inside, I throw a pile of mail onto the coffee table in the living room. Sitting on the couch where I hooked up with Alex probably won't help clear my head, but there aren't many other places to sit in this place, and holing up in my bedroom to avoid the memory is downright depressing.

I sort through a couple fliers and bits of junk mail. It's amazing people still mail that kind of stuff these days, but sure enough, I find a couple solicitations among the stack.

The rest are bills.

My stomach sinks. It's getting close to the end of the month. The bills are coming due, and it's all on me to pay them this time.

Stuffing down the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I start opening bills. Electric. Internet. Student loans. All the usual stuff. I have electronic versions of it as well, but a few utilities send snail mail reminders on top of that. I tally it up in my head, mentally adding in the rent and expenses like groceries. If my math is correct, I can cover it this month and maybe next month, but after that, I'm going to be in serious trouble if I don't have a roommate who's picking up half of the tab.

That is not a lot of time.

I tidy up the bills, stowing them back in their envelopes. I toss the junk mail, but leave the bills in a stack on my nightstand. It's probably a terrible idea to sleep next to the thing that's stressing me out, but it seems even worse to leave them in the living room where I'll encounter them every time I walk into the house.

I sit on the edge of my bed, hands on my knees as I try to steer my mind away from panic. I can do this. I've done it before. I'm certainly not going to go beg my mother for money or something. She raised me on her own. She shouldn't have to stress out over my finances when I'm an adult.

No, I'll sort this out alone. Chloe said I can put up posters at the café. I already have an ad running online. I even talked to the landlord to see if he'll reach out for renters as well. I have to pay off the bills this month, and by next month someone will be here to help me. Definitely.

I jerk to my feet and pace the hallway from the bedrooms to the living room. It's not a long route, but it helps expell some of the jittery energy tingling through me. Maybe I was better off spending all my time worrying about Alex instead.

Ugh, okay, that is not making this any better. The reminder that I hooked up with a straight guy — a very, very skilled straight guy with a gorgeous cock — and he hasn't spoken to me since is doing nothing positive for my state of mind. I dig for my phone, shooting off a text to Ellie before I can spiral out any further. Can I call you? Not urgent, just want to talk. She's my go-to when I'm in a weird mood and need to talk it out. Thank God she's back from Europe. I don't know what I'd do with myself tonight if she wasn't in town.

Of course, babe. I'm cooking dinner.

Oh. Right. Food. Other worries crowded the thought of dinner right out of my head. I pour myself a bowl of cereal. Me too, I say. I mean, it's technically true.

I get her on FaceTime without further delay, propping my phone up against the counter so I can eat my bowl of cereal while we talk. Her reminder about dinner made me realize I'm starving.

"Are you having cereal for dinner?" she says the second she answers. "Henry, that's not a real dinner."

"I was busy today." I was not busy today, not unless you count stressing out about a straight guy and then bills.

Ellie rolls her eyes. She turns her focus to a stir-fry pan on a stove. Veggies and noodles hiss as she adds some kind of sauce. Steam briefly obscures my view.

"Sorry, might be noisy for a minute," she says. "Almost done."

"Don't rush. That looks delicious."

"You should come over and have some. It's better than your cereal, I promise."

I yearn to take her up on that offer, but the stress of my situation makes me want to hunker down under the covers.

"Maybe another time," I say. "I have work in the morning, and you know if I come over there with a bottle of wine we'll stay up way too late."

She shrugs, but I catch the edge of a knowing smile. I chit chat with her while she finishes cooking her dinner. The sizzling often drowns out our conversation. When she's done, she takes a plate heaped with veggies and noodles and chicken to her living room, and I plop down in mine with my sad bowl of cereal. I prop my phone up on the coffee table and lie on my side on the couch, unashamed to wallow in front of her. This is what best friends are for.

"So," Ellie says as she shovels noodles and veggies into her mouth, "what's this about? Boy trouble?"

"Sort of," I say. Before she can get too excited, I hurry on. "I told you my roommate moved out."

"Yeah, that's shitty."

"All the bills for the month started arriving. I'm realizing how bad this could be. I knew it would be hard affording everything on my own, but I didn't realize it was going to be really, really hard."

"If you need help… I mean, I'm a little depleted because of my trip, but we could figure something out. Maybe I could talk to my parents or something. We can sort this out, Henry."

Her kind offer warms my chest.

"That's really, really nice of you," I say. "I don't want it to come to that if I can help it. I can't beg you or your parents for money every month."

"No, but we could probably get you another month, if you needed it."

"I think I'll be okay this month and probably next. After that…"

"Okay, well, listen, I really want you to ask if you need the help," Ellie says. "I would so prefer to lend you some money than to hear you don't have a place to live. I'm serious."

I know she is, and it fills me with such affection I feel like a balloon about to pop.

"You didn't call me for bills, though," Ellie says.

My stomach drops. She knows me way too well. Ellie sets aside her dinner and gets closer to her phone, and even through a screen I can feel her picking me apart.

"Okay, who is he and what's going on?" She gasps. "Oh my God. Tell me this is the straight guy you kissed during the hike. Some guy from college or something?"

"It … it might be the straight guy from the hike…"

"Henry!" She screams so loud the sound gets distorted on its way to me. "Are you out here messing up straight guys' lives? Because I'm completely here for that, just so you know."

"I'm not trying to mess up anyone's life!"

I sit up too riled to lie around any longer.

"It's not like that, I swear," I say. "I just… Okay, he's visiting from out of town, right, but he can't get much work done where he's staying. So I simply offered him a place to work. With my roommate gone and all, the house is really quiet."

"You invited a straight guy who you kissed to come to your house and ‘work' and he said yes? Am I getting this right?"

I groan and put my face in my hands, and that's answer enough.

"First of all, so proud of you, bitch," Ellie says.

"I wasn't trying to do anything!" I shout into my palms.

"But you did do something, didn't you? I can tell."

I nod, face hidden, and Ellie shrieks at her phone.

"Who started it? How did it happen? Was it good?"

"I… He did, I think. And I don't know. And … yes. It was … it was actually really good. It was a little too good. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Holy shit, Henry. And you're sure he's straight?"

I finally uncover my face so I can shrug at her. "That's what he says."

"But not how he acts, apparently."

She's wearing an absolutely evil grin, and it makes me want to change the subject before she can pry any deeper. Sure, I like getting this off my chest with her, but there are definitely some parts of it Ellie never needs to know about … like how good Alex is at eating ass. That's something I should keep to myself, I suspect.

"What about you?" I say. "How has you first week back been?"

"You're changing the subject, but I'm going to allow it because I actually do have some news. It's so random, but the family of this guy I knew in high school started hitting me up this week to go out to dinner."

"That's good, right?"

"It could be. He was hot in high school, but it's been ages. Who knows what he looks like now? And his family is going to be there? I don't know. The whole thing is kind of weird, but at the same time, what do I really have to lose?"

"Do you need backup? I can scout it out from the bar or something."

"I might," Ellie says. "I don't know what to expect. He went to college and then became a lawyer in San Francisco or something. He used to be a party boy. I don't get it."

My stomach sinks at the phrase "lawyer in San Francisco" and I miss the rest of what she says. It would be too weird too much of a coincidence. It's not possible.

And yet… Tripp Lake isn't that big. Ellie's mystery high school man may very well be my straight guy on a hike. And if that's the case…

"But you'll be there to have my back, right?" Ellie says.

I can't refuse, but I suddenly wish I could.