Technically, we had an aunt and uncle—my cousin Nathan’s parents—but he emancipated when he was seventeen. He said he already raised himself so may as well make it official. Considering I hardly talked to my aunt and uncle, I took Nathan’s side.
Cornell was dead to me once I moved back home to St. Louis. I couldn’t go back to college and leave Daphne to a foster system. She was fourteen, so she only needed a guardian for four years. Even though I was twenty-one at the time, I became her guardian. I wasn’t sure how good a job I did, but she graduated high school and got a scholarship to her local college.
So I could have been worse.
Although I once dreamed of returning to Cornell to finishmy architecture degree, it never happened. We lived off the money I made doing various part-time jobs, Daphne posting ridiculous photos online of me every day. Soon the page took off, and so did influencer deals. Why would I go back to college when there were two rents and tuition to pay? Daphne insisted she’d take out loans, but I wouldn’t let her. A part of me was disappointed I never finished what I started, but there were other priorities in place.
I probably would have stayed in St. Louis to make sure she was okay, but in her loving words, I needed to, “Move out and get a girlfriend or something, Noah, you’re pathetic.”
While I didn’t succeed in getting a girlfriend, I liked to think I wasn’t pathetic. A pitiful state wasn’t the reason for my singleness so much as was my belief in the people-to-follower correlation. People, like Instagram followers, will drop or dislike you for no reason. I preferred to openly accept followers but keep the people behind the account far away.
Daphne was happy to be here now, I was sure. But something was wrong. I could tell by the way her body pulled taut like the strings on a violin.
I debated digging into the issue, asking again what happened to New York, but she didn’t look ready to discuss it. I’d give her some time to decompress, but then I needed answers.
So I said the three words everyone in the world wants to hear the most. “Pizza on me.”
She perked up. “Deep dish?”
“Obviously.”
We gathered our things in silence, Daphne pulling out a purse from the inside of her luggage. It was early for dinner, but the two of us could always eat. Always.
Daphne’s hand, clad with rings on each finger, held a spare LEGO that had been cast aside. “You’re such a nerd. How do all these girls on the Internet think you’re so cool?”
I snatched it out of her hands and placed it back in the box. “Don’t make me order you anchovies.”
She gasped so dramatically her bun loosened, a few curls knocking against her face. “I thought you loved me.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I mean, there are worse—” When I opened the door, I froze. “What the fuck?”
Macey Monroe stood on the other side.
Of my door.
To my apartment.
“Um…” Her hand, which had been floating in the air, close to a knock, faltered. “I was in the neighborhood?”
Chestnut eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
“Again, what the fuck?” I repeated, aware that Daphne was giving me a weird look. “No. Better question,howthe fuck?”
She mindlessly played with the button-up sweater she was wearing. “I don’t thinkhow the fuckis a real question.”
“Macey.”
“I mean,how the fuckimplies how did you do something or?—”
I let go of Daphne to pinch the bridge of my nose. “Let’s start with how you know where I live.”
Between my fingers, I saw Macey’s expression relax. “I asked your manager for your address. He responded in twenty-nine seconds.”
Fucking Ezra.
“Why are you talking to Ezra?”
“Oh.” She glanced at Daphne as if the presence of my sister would impact her answer. “Well, I really needed to talk to you about something, and you didn’t respond to my DM. I got a little impatient, so I thought I’d ask him for your address.”
