I sighed. “What’s his deal?”
“They didn’t say. It’ll be like unwrapping a present,” she teased.
Feeling anxiety bubble up in my chest again, I headed down to my bedroom and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, once again appreciative of the sanctuary that was my own space. The screen door that led out to my yard let in a cool breeze. Listening to the rustle of the leaves, I drifted off into a nap.
***
My sister’s voice woke me sometime later. “Come upstairs and meet Caleb!”
Rubbing my groggy eyes, I mumbled, “Who?”
“Caleb. The guy who’s gonna be living with us!”
Ugh.
She plopped onto my bed. “He’s really nice. He’s already fixed my bike. He figured out how to loosen the stuck seat.”
“He’s been here for a while?”
“About an hour and a half. He’s upstairs putting his room together, but Mom just called everyone for dinner. We’re about to start eating. She made spaghetti.”
I looked at the clock. Jesus. It was nearly eight at night.
After my sister skipped back upstairs, I forced myself out of bed and walked over to the mirror. I tied my long, light brown hair back up in a knot. I hadn’t worn my hair down in ages, and makeup wasn’t my thing. Good enough. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone anyway.
Slowly, I made my way up the stairs. As I reached the top, a British accent began to register. I stopped just short of the dining room and lingered around the corner before entering. Why does his voice sound so familiar?
I leaned my head out to take a peek into the room.
No!
Just no!
Why?
It was the chiseled face of the guy who’d judged me in the men’s room today. My stomach sank.
Not the bathroom Brit!
Anyone but him.
He was our new tenant?
My father caught sight of me, thwarting my attempt to hide around the corner. “Teagan! So nice of you to join us.”
I took a few reluctant steps into the dining room.
Caleb turned to meet my shocked eyes. His mouth fell open before curving into an amused smile.
Maura introduced us. “Teagan, this is Caleb.” She grinned. “Caleb, this is our daughter, Teagan.”
“Nice to meet you,” I forced out.
He smirked. “Actually…we’ve met before, haven’t we?”
Maura looked between us. “You have?”
Caleb nodded. “We ran into each other today at orientation.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, that’s right. I recognize you now.”
“It was brief…but memorable.” He winked. “Wasn’t it?”
I wanted to smack him from across the table. But instead, I sat, vowing not to say anything further to him.
Throughout dinner, I played with my pasta and avoided making eye contact.
Maura pushed the serving dish closer to him, a silent encouragement to eat up. “So, Caleb, what brings you to the States? I mean, I know you’re studying at Northern, but why did you decide to make that move?”
He took a swig of water. “Well, I took a few years off after high school. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to major in. That’s why at twenty-two, I’m a bit old for a freshman. My uni in England has a partnership with Northern. I was given the option to spend one year here. So, I chose the first year. I figured when else in my life would I get this opportunity?”
“Is this your first time in the US?”
He wiped his mouth and nodded. “Yes.”
“What do you think so far?” she asked.
“I love it. But I’m definitely noticing some differences.”
Maura leaned in. “Oh? We’d love to know more.” She turned to my sister. “Shelley, pay attention. This is good for you to learn.”
“Well, for one, the portion sizes here are more fit for a gorilla.”
Everyone but me got a good laugh at that.
“Not that I’m complaining…” he added. “I think it’s great. We just aren’t served that much food back home.”
Smiling, my dad crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. “What else?”
“Well, thus far I’m finding there are two types of people here. There are extremely friendly ones who start talking to you on the tube for no reason. And then there are people who can’t seem to take a joke or laugh at things.” He turned and looked right at me. “I feel like Brits are somewhere in between the two—more neutral, really.”
Maura filled his glass with more water. “That’s so interesting. So our personalities are more extreme.”
“Perhaps.” He smirked at me.
My stepmom continued to grill Caleb through dessert. He seemed more than happy to answer her questions. Meanwhile, I longed to escape but stayed since I didn’t want to appear any ruder than he apparently thought I was.
After dinner, Caleb helped us clean up, despite Maura’s insistence that he didn’t have to. He definitely had good manners. I’d give him that.
It was late by the time everything was put away. Much to my delight, Caleb retreated to his room.
Relief washed over me, since I no longer had to avoid looking at him. I could momentarily forget he was living in my house.
***
The next morning as I was in the kitchen pouring coffee, I felt the vibration of his voice at my back.
“Morning, roomie.”
I jumped and, with my back still turned to him, managed to say hello.
“You know, if we’re going to be living together, you might as well learn to look at me. I can imagine it’s a lot more work to avoid eye contact. It’s sort of like playing dodgeball with your eyeballs.”
That made me chuckle a little. I turned around to face him. “We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. I guess I’m still trying to accept that you’re here under our roof, given how we were introduced.”
“You must have nearly crapped when you saw me.”
I rolled my eyes as his mouth spread into a wicked smile, his white teeth nearly blinding me. He was painfully handsome, and I hated it. His thick, gorgeous head of hair was a beautiful mess in the morning, too. Pretty-boy asshole.
“Yeah. It was supposed to be Bo Cheng, not you,” I said.
His eyes narrowed. “Bo Cheng?”
“The guy you replaced. That’s his name.”
“Ah. That bloke. I met him briefly when I was moving out of the other place. His eyes were all puffy.”
“Yeah. He was allergic to Catlin Jenner.”
“Who?”
“Catlin Jenner—the cat.”
“Ah, that’s her name?”
“Yes. Shelley named her after that Kardashians dad who’s now a woman—Caitlin Jenner. Except ours is Cat-lin Jenner. Get it?”
“She’s a clever one, your sister. And that makes sense about the allergies. That cat certainly has no lack of hair.”
“She’s Persian.”
“She’s beautiful. We slept together last night, actually.”
I was certain it wasn’t the first time he’d said that. “Be careful. She scratches sometimes.”
“Scratches don’t scare me.”