AND THEN WE’RE IN ATHENS. Abby cuts down Prince Avenue, and I take in the colorful jumble of shops and cafés. There’s a little indie bookstore with tall, arched windows, a grocery co-op on the corner, and two guys walking down the sidewalk, holding hands. I don’t think it’s hit me that I’ll be living here. Not just visiting. Not just staring out of a car window, driving by. It doesn’t feel like real life.
Abby’s friend lives in an apartment building near the center of town—understated and modern, with its own covered parking deck. “Caitlin says we just park wherever,” says Abby. “She’s letting us borrow her parking permit.”
“This is wild.”
“I know.”
I peer out the window as we loop around each row of the deck. It’s a funny mix of cars—some freshly washed and expensive-looking, others dented and battered. Lots of University of Georgia cling stickers. Apparently, almost everyone who lives here is a student.
We find a spot on the third level, ride an elevator to the lobby, and sign our names on a sheet at the front desk. Then we take another elevator to the sixth floor, where Caitlin’s apartment sits, halfway down a long, carpeted hall.
When she and Abby see each other, they shriek and hug in the doorway, even though I’m pretty sure they’ve met literally once. Honestly, how well can you know your cousin’s girlfriend’s friend’s sister? But it’s Abby, so who knows.
“And you must be Leah,” Caitlin says. “Here, let me grab your bags.” We follow her into a sunny open kitchen with marble countertops, chrome appliances, and cheerfully stacked Fiestaware. It looks so perfectly adult. I knew Caitlin lived off campus, so it’s not like I expected a dorm room, but this apartment looks like something out of HGTV. I didn’t realize college sophomores could live like this.
“So, this is it. Bedroom, bathroom, I’ve got the Wi-Fi password written down, and you have my number. You guys are going on a tour tomorrow, right?”
Abby nods. “In the afternoon.”
“Cool. Well, if you’re up for it, my friend Eva is having people over tomorrow night. They live downstairs—it’s literally this exact apartment, but on the fifth floor. Leah, you would love them. They’re a drummer.”
That casual singular they. It isn’t even my pronoun, but it feels like a hug. Because if Caitlin’s unfazed by her enby friend’s pronouns, she’d probably be unfazed by me being bi.
“Anyway, I can text you the info.”
“So, it’s a party?” Abby asks.
Caitlin shrugs. “I guess so? Not really, though. I think it’s going to be super chill.” She twists her hair back and releases it. “You guys should totally stop by. And here’s the parking permit. You can just prop it near your windshield.”
“I should do that now,” Abby says.
“Perfect. I’ll walk you to the parking lot. And I guess that’s everything.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Seriously.”
“Oh my God, of course!” She hugs me, and it’s like hugging a flower. It’s like that with skinny people. I’m always terrified I’ll crush them.
They leave, and suddenly I’m alone in this stranger’s apartment. But I hear Abby’s giggle all the way down the hall.
I call Mom at the office.
“There you are! I was starting to worry. How was the drive?”
“Good.”
“That all you’re giving me? Good?”
“It was amazing,” I say. “It was unicorns vomiting sunbeams.” I push aside two fuzzy white throw pillows and sink onto the couch.
“And Abby’s good?”
“Yup.”
“Run into any hotties yet?”
“Mom.”
“I’m just asking.”
“Okay, first of all, we’ve been here for five minutes. Second of all, don’t say hotties.” I roll my eyes. “And I’m not hooking up with anyone.”
“Okay, but you know the drill. Dental dam! Condom!” Mom’s golden rule. Not super relevant, considering I get no action. And even if I did, it sure as hell wouldn’t be on this trip. Not in Caitlin’s apartment, and definitely not in front of Abby. I can’t imagine bringing a girl home. Abby wouldn’t even know what was happening. I’m 99 percent sure she thinks I’m straight. Even Simon thinks I’m straight.
I feel weird about that sometimes—the fact that Simon’s out to me, but I’m not out to him. It’s like when Leia says I love you, and Han Solo says I know. Like everything’s slightly off-balance. It bugs me. But the thought of telling him now makes me want to throw up. I should have told him a year ago. I don’t think it would have been a big deal then, but now it feels insurmountable. It’s like I missed a beat somewhere, and now the whole song’s off tempo.
And that’s pretty much how I feel when I end the call with Mom. I tuck up against the armrest of Caitlin’s couch, but my limbs feel twitchy and restless. I want to explore the apartment, but something about that feels wrong. Maybe it’s the fact that I would die before leaving someone alone in my space. I get sick just imagining it. All my dirty clothes and half-finished fan art. I don’t get how people walk through life with all their windows wide open.
I hear the doorknob turn—Abby’s back from the parking lot. She flops down beside me. “This place is amazing.”
“I know.”
“And it’s a one bedroom. How does she even afford that?” She kicks off her flats and tucks her feet up onto the couch. “I don’t even think I’d want that.”
“You mean money?”
“No, I mean a one bedroom. I definitely want a roommate. Or a suite-mate.”
“A roommate would be cheaper.”
“Cheaper is good,” she agrees. She sits up straighter, meeting my eyes. “Have you thought about that at all?”
“Roommates?”
She nods, then pauses. “You and I could be roommates.”
“That’s what Simon wants.”
“Yeah, I know. He mentioned that. But it’s not a bad idea, you know?”
She has to be kidding. Not a bad idea? Abby living in my bedroom. I’d lose my mind in a week.
“Or not,” she says quickly. “Just a thought. We don’t even have to decide now.”
I nod wordlessly.
“So, I asked Caitlin about the party.”
“Okay.” I frown.
“Apparently, it’s just a few people hanging out. Like, just a Tuesday-night thing.” She bites her lip. “I don’t think it’s even a real party.”
“Let me guess. You want to go.”
“Only if you’re going.”
“Yeah, I don’t know.”
“Maybe we could just stop by for a second.” She scoots closer, hands clasped. “Just to cheer me up after my breakup?”
I scoff. “You dumped him!”
“But I still feel shitty about it.”
“And a party will fix that?”
“Definitely.”
I pause and then sigh. “See, this is why we can’t be roommates.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’d make me go to parties. You’d do doe eyes at me until I agreed.”
“Oh.” Abby grins. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”
I look away, smiling. “Whatever. It’s tomorrow, right?”
“Right.”
I roll my eyes. “All right, but I’m not drinking anything.”
“Ahhhhh!” She presses her hands to her cheeks. “I can’t wait. Leah, we’re going to an actual college party!”
“Mmm.”
“No, I’m serious—this is going to be so awesome. Do you realize this is the beginning?”
“The beginning of what?”
She sinks back, smiling dreamily. “Of real life. Of adulthood.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“It’s amazing.”
I roll my eyes—but when she smiles at me, I can’t help but smile back.