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Mav grabs my arm. “I told her the foldout smells a little like old cheese!”
“Mav! You’re taking advantage!”
A few moments later, the doorbell rings.
“It’s for me!” Mav shouts as he leaps out of the room. We pass two of his housemates who are cooking something that smells a lot like instant ramen in the kitchen.
I elbow Mav out of the way to be the first to pick up the intercom. “Hello!”
Her voice still makes my stomach go all tingly every time. “Hey, kitten. I brought Mav some housewarming gifts.”
When she comes up to the second floor followed by a parade of minotaurs carrying unwieldy boxes, I can tell even Mav knows he’s overdone it this time. We settle in the shared living room, the lounge of which smells just as much like old cheese as Mav’s, while the moving crew assemble Mav’s new furniture in his room.
“I had some nicer pieces picked out,” Celeste says apologetically, “But I had to settle for things that disassemble because of how narrow the stairwell is.”
Mav bites his lip. “You really didn’t have to.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “You should be comfortable in your own home.”
The wait becomes a little awkward after as we don’t have much to talk about, and though I’d be perfectly happy just watching Celeste be pretty for a while, I’m relieved when one of Mav’s new housemates offers us all a hit of his bong – ordinary weed, not Ghostshade – and goes on a convoluted but extensive Marxist rant.
Celeste, ever the socialite, makes some highly intellectual sounding remarks that neither agree nor disagree with his argument, while Mav and I throw each other ‘what the heck is going on’-glances.
Finally, the crew is finished and we manage to escape the conversation before it can get any more political. Mav gapes when we enter his room – there is a king-sized bed, a fluffy rug, a wall-to-wall closet with mirrored doors, a flatscreen TV on its own stand, and she even got a throw for the stinky old foldout.
“It’s too much!” Mav says in a tone that says that he loves it and it’s absolutely not too much.
Celeste reaches into a cardboard box the movers left on Mav’s table. “There are a few things in here just to brighten it up but I wanted to give you this myself.”
She holds out a large box so pedantically wrapped in colorful paper that I know she wrapped it herself. Now Mav really looks like he feels bad, though his expression quickly turns to delight when he opens the present.
He sets the package down carefully before leaping around Celeste’s neck. “Thank you!”
She stiffens and awkwardly pats his back, though I can see in the slight curl of her lips that she’s pleased with herself.
I peer at the box – a special edition Pikachu Nintendo 64 still in its original packaging.[Not bad for someone who thinks her WiFi not working means the whole internet has shut down.]
Letting go and stifling his excitement, Mav says, “Sorry, I forgot you don’t really do hugs.”
“It’s fine.” She clears her throat. “That said, my therapist says I need to work on my guilt, so uh… this is probably the last of the remorse gifts.” I can see her struggle to stop herself from saying it but then she adds, “Unless you need anything urgently for survival?”
“Well–”
I shoot Mav a warning glance.
“No! You’ve done more than enough,” he concedes.
***
”
She opens her eyes, brilliantly blue. “Hmm?”
“How long did you suspect that it was Dante who was behind the witch blood?”
“I know from the moment I found out it was happening again.” She shakes her head. “Mel thought I was crazy.”
“That must have been terrifying.”
