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“My music,” I said with a wicked grin, sliding a plate of savory food in front of her. “But more specifically, this band I’m into right now—”
“Hipster!” cried Noah from somewhere in the house.
Grace’s eyes widened with alarm. “There’s someone else here?”
“Just my roommate. Or housemate. Or poltergeist, I don’t fucking know. Anyway, his name’s Noah, and sometimes I come home to all of these kitchen cabinets open and the chairs upside-down on that table—”
“That was one time!” Noah shouted. “And I was cleaning!”
I chuckled as I carried my own plate of food and sat down next to her. I made sure to face her, my body language open with my elbow on the counter.
“He’s a little… neurotic,” I explained, tucking a lock of Grace’s hair behind her ear.
Her ear was hot, and her face was red. “You mean… there’s been someone else in the house… the whole time?” she lowered her voice. “…last night?”
“I heard everything!” he said from the walls. “It washot!”
I nearly choked on my burnt-ass bacon, longing to shut him up.
Though there was a part of me that delighted with this turn of events. I wanted to see how Grace reacted to things; every gesture, every sound she made was something I could commit to memory and use to learn more about her. The element of surprise was the way you got to see someone underneath all the layers of politeness and posturing.
Because at the end of the day, the changing unknown was all you really had. Plans, politeness, structure—they were all useless illusions of control.
Chaos was the primary element of life, and your ability to react to it determined how much you shone.
She sipped her coffee again.
I pressed my knee against her leg, in what I hoped was a reassuring way.
But I could see the racing thoughts start to whir behind her eyes. I knew that look…
“I… I don’t do this—”
“Then what do you do?” I asked, trying to corral the conversation into safer territory.
“Math teacher,” she said. She took another sip.
I smiled. That madso much sense.“I’ve got it bad, then.”
She rolled her eyes. “I could laugh and pretend you’re the first guy to say that to me, but I haven’t finished my coffee yet.”
Noah’s gloating voice echoed throughout the house: “Burn ointment’s in the bathroom behind the mirror!”
Grace giggled into her coffee.
I chuckled and tilted my head, seeing Miss Grace in a whole new light.
She had bite.
How interesting.
“Well, what do your students call you, Miss—?”
She stared at me blankly, and I stared at all the blanks around her I wanted to fill. Starting with this one.
“…your last name, dear. Though it won’t be the last name I call you. This one just makes it easier to find you again once you vanish.”
She took a bite of her English Muffin, the apricot preserves on it glittering like an orange jewel in the morning sun. Once she finished chewing, she said, “Sinclair.”
