“Did you hear me on the speaker?” I ask, pointing to the security camera.
“I don’t have it turned on.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t have to stay. I just came to drop off your money.”
“How’d you get it so fast?”
“I took it from Brock. I took it without asking and he accused me of stealing. We had a big fight and . . .” I look down the street.
“You need a place to hang out.”
I look back at him. “Yeah. But I can just walk around the neighborhood. I didn’t know you were sleeping.”
He steps aside. “Come on in.
“You sure?”
“You can’t walk the neighborhood with a busted-up knee.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
When I head inside, I hear music playing from down the hall.
“Is that classical?” I ask.
“I use it to sleep.” He walks down the hall to the kitchen. “When I was younger, we didn’t have a TV. My parents would play classical music instead. I hated it. It always put me to sleep. Now I use that to my advantage when I can’t sleep.”
“You didn’t have a TV? Doesn’t your dad make TV shows?”
“He started out in TV but now he only does movies. It’s actually common for people in the industry to not watch TV.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
He opens the fridge. “Want a soda?”
I race over to him. “You have soda?”
“Take whatever you want.” He steps aside, letting me see inside his fridge. He has cans of soda and a few bottles of beer.
“Beer?” I say, smiling at him.
He shrugs. “I’m technically an adult.”
“You’re still not old enough to buy beer.”
“I still buy it.” He reaches across me to grab a banana. “Never even get carded. People think I’m in my twenties.”
“Youdolook really old,” I say, taking a can of soda.
“I lookold?” he asks, sounding disappointed.
I laugh. “Not old in a bad way. I meant old like a college guy. You don’t look like a high school guy. You’re too big. Most high school guys are scrawny. Except Braden. He’s big too but you’re even bigger than him. Do you work out all the time?”
“I didn’t use to, but I’ve stepped it up the past couple years.” He bites off a third of the banana. “I work with a personal trainer and nutritionist.”
“And she lets you eat this?” I ask, pulling a package of bacon from the fridge.
“It’s a he, and yes, he lets me eat what I want as long as I’m getting enough protein.” He points to the fridge. “You sure you don’t want anything?”
