“Ha ha,” I say weakly, my eyes jumping to Aiden. I think murder jokes have forever been ruined for me. Judging by the disconcerted expression on his face, he feels the same way. “No. Still alive, still kicking.”
“How’s the house?”
“It’s great,” I say. The tension eases out of me a bit as I start talking about something other than death. “My room is in the loft. It’s small, but it has great natural light. I met the landlady too, and she’s nice.”
“Good,” Roland says. “What about your job? You got that all set up?”
“Yep. I’ll work at the yoga studio.”
“You get good hours?”
I shrug. “Good enough.”
“And how about the new roommate?” Roland says. “You like him?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” I say, glaring at Aiden, who has the audacity to smirk distractedly as he continues flipping pages. “He’s a pretentious pain in the?—”
“Ha,” Roland cuts me off, which is probably for the best. “Told you you would never find a roommate as good as me.”
“At least he puts the toilet seat down after he pees,” I say.
Actually, I don’t know if this is true. Aiden has his own bathroom connected to his bedroom, and I’ve never been in there. But he seems like the kind of guy who puts the toilet seat down, based on how clean he wants things all the time.
“That was one time, Juniper,” Roland says now.
“It was not. But one time falling into the toilet in the middle of the night is all it takes,” I say with a shudder.
It feels weird to be talking so lightly toRoland when I feel so heavy inside, but I force myself to continue. “And truthfully,” I go on, my nose wrinkling as I remember the Blind Date Incident, “I don’t think I can ever room with you again. Like, ever.”
“Agreed,” he says immediately. “No way. Not after?—”
“Don’t say it,” I say. “Just—don’t say it. I’m trying to forget.”
“What happened?” Aiden says, speaking for the first time since this phone call started. His smirk turns into something more sympathetic. “Did you see him naked?”
“Ew,” I say, and on the other end, Roland says the same thing.
“No way, man,” he says. I’m a little offended that he’s addressing Aiden in such a friendly manner—doesn’t he know that his loyalty is to me, his loving older sister? But he just goes on, “Some stupid friend of Juniper’s set us up on a blind date, not knowing we were brother and?—”
“That’s enough of that,” I say loudly.
But Roland, it seems, is not interested in my opinion. He keeps going. “Imagine your old college buddy tells you to come meet some hot friend of his girlfriend’s, and you get there and discover it’s yoursister?—”
“Roland!” I all but shout into the phone. “Focus, please.” I glance at Aiden, who looks horrified; undoubtedly he’s imagining what it would feel like to get set up on a date with Caroline. “I need to talk to Lance about something.”
“You could have just called him directly,” he grumbles.
“I wanted to say hello to you first,” I say, smiling. “My wittle baby brother?—”
“Ugh,” Roland says. “Shut it. Here’s Dad.”
I hear a shuffling sound on the other end, and then a familiar voice speaks. “Juniper?”
“Hi, Lance,” I say. “How’s it going?”
“Going just fine. I’m enjoying having Roland home for a bit. What’s up? He said you wanted to talk to me.”
“Yeah,” I say. I take a deep breath, trying to dispel the sudden nerves that are invading my gut—a thousand little needles, prickly and sharp, perforating my innards. “I had a question about my mom, actually.”
