He pulls his hood over his head. “Hi.”
His smile hits my body in all the wrong places. The last time he looked at me and didn’t seem sad, he was inside me, doing things to me I didn’t know someone could do.
“How’s Seattle?”
“Exactly how I left it.”
I understand what he means. We’d made plans to leave home for a reason. Even though those reasons didn’t play out the way we wanted, it doesn’t mean we want to rewind to where we started and try again.
“Are you staying at your parents’ place?”
“Yeah. My old bedroom. Same as it was in high school.” He pans the phone around, showing me the room. It’s smaller than my room in the Brooklyn apartment, only enough room for a twin bed and adesk.
“Did you find an apartment?”
“I’m looking at some tomorrow. It’s basically a see-and-sign situation here. Nothing stays available for longer than a day or two.”
“Same here.”
Though our conversation is the same as the rundowns we would have in the apartment, something is off. Yes, we’re apart, and yes, we had sex the last time we were together, but I refuse to believe that ended our bond.
“Liem. What is up with you? Just because we’re on the phone rather than next to each other doesn’t mean you get to clam up on me. Talk to me.”
True to our relationship, he doesn’t need me to clarify. “Is it weird?” he asks. “That I—that we . . . ?”
“It doesn’t have to be weird. Sometimes friends kiss. Sometimes they have sex. It’s . . . normal.”
“Right. Definitely,” he says with a nod, though I know he’s never had sex with someone he knew was just a friend. “We’re good?”
“We’re always going to be good, Hoodie. Even if you embrace your Pacific Northwest identity and become a serial killer, I’ll still be the friend saying, ‘He was such a sweet guy, this is so unlike him,’ until they find the bodies.” Finally, I get a real laugh from him. “Now, tell me how you really are.”
He rolls to his side, lying on his pillow as if we’re in bed together. I mimic his position to get the full experience.
“My mom is in Vietnam, so I’ve been stuck with my dad.”
“How’s that been?”
He shrugs. “He’s said about four words to me this whole time. This morning, I got uncomfortable and faked a phone call so I could leave the room. He’s been busy at the restaurant most of the time. Luckily.”
“Sorry, babe.” Something moves in the background. A tail flickers behind his shoulder. “Is that a cat?”
“Yeah.” He rolls to grab it. “This is Bean.”
“Bean?”
“Bean Sprout, technically. She’s the only good part of living in this house.” Bean looks around for an escape route, but when he flops her onto her side and pets her, she gives in, stretching to receive the maximum touch possible.Relatable. “How is it living with Keisha? For real.”
“Nothing reminds you how fast time is passing like your friend’s pregnancy. I have to get into my own place ASAP. Can you imagine having to feed your baby and your deadbeat friend each morning?”
“You’re not a—”
“I know what I am. I’m living in a guest room. Pity me.”
He laughs. “When is she due?”
“Two weeks after my birthday. I wanted to be out by then anyway, but this put my plans into overdrive. I’m going to apply for two jobs tomorrow—in person, not online. I’m over that shit.”
“That’s good. I’m proud of you.”
