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Koda: Stop turning me on right before I go to bed.
I’m about to answer her when my phone rings, and when I put it to my ear, I can only laugh when I answer it.
* * *
I’m walking into the house three days later after practice when I get a text from Dakota.
Koda: Do you think you could meet me quickly?
Me: Where?
Koda: 375 Peterbourgh.
Me: When?
Koda: Now, if you’re free.
Me: Be right there.
I get into the car and put the address in the GPS, seeing it’s about fifteen minutes away.
Me: Be there in fifteen.
Koda: I’ll be waiting.
I start the drive there, wondering what is going on. I pull up to the house thirteen minutes later and see Koda’s car parked in the driveway of a two-story house.
I park on the street at the curb, looking up at the house that has four massive windows in the front, two on each side. On the right side, you see the living room, and on the left, you see the staircase going up to the second floor. I stride up the paved walkway to the brown front door, stepping up the two steps.
The door opens right away, and Koda stands there wearing a pair of black pants with a thick white knitted turtleneck sweater. “Hi.” She smiles big at me, and I step in beside her, bending to kiss her lips.
“Hi,” I return softly, looking over her head, seeing a living room with two white chairs and a gray armoire stacked with books.
“Thanks for coming,” she says, slipping her hand in mine.
“Of course,” I reply as she walks with me trailing her, holding her hand down the small hallway toward the kitchen and family room.
“Look at the kitchen.” She runs her hand over the white granite island with three stools. “Isn’t it perfect?” She smiles so big, and I look around at the staged living room.
“You have to see upstairs.” She pulls me back toward the front door, walking up the stairs to the second floor. “There are four bedrooms.” I look at the doors once we get upstairs.
“What is all this?” I ask as she walks into the master bedroom. I see the king-sized bed in the middle of the room against the wall, a bench in front of the bed with pillows on it. She slips her hand out of mine, taking a step deeper into the room, going to the window that faces the side of the house. “Where are we?”
She puts her hands to her mouth and then squeals, “This is my new house.” Whatever I thought she was going to say, it’s definitely not what she actually said.
“What?” I gasp, my mouth open as I look around.
“I put an offer in on the house two days ago.” She jumps up, just like Rain did in the gym. “And they accepted it right away. It’s mine after they come and take all their staged shit away.”
“You bought a house?” I look around the room.
“I did,” she confirms and guilt washes over me.
“But what about?—”
“It’s too big,” she explains, “but this.” She turns in the room. “This is so us. I can picture making breakfast with the girls in the kitchen. I can picture putting Christmas greens around the stairs and seeing the lights twinkling outside.”
“But what about the other house?” I ask, and she rolls her lips.
