Page 17 of Somewhere in the Sunset

We’ve pushed Maddie and Elena’s beds together, creat-ing one giant king, and the three of us are sprawled out together in our PJs. The wine flows, the Chinese takeout containers sit in the middle of us, and music plays from the speaker.

Rogue struts into the room, the street cat Maddie found on campus a few years ago and kidnapped, brought home (much to Elena’s disgust), and who now lives here. He springs onto the bed and curls his body around my head.

“Ew,” I say, moving his tail out of my face.

Maddie gasps and reaches over to grab him, cuddling him protectively and kissing his forehead despite the fact it was once infested with fleas. “Don’t listen to her, Rogue. There’s nothingewabout you.”

“I really fucking hate that cat,” Elena mutters.

I smile and reach for my wine glass. It’s been forever since I had a night like this with my best friends. Weekends have always been spent mostly with Luca, except the one weekend each month where we would both spend time with our respective friends, so whenever I did see Elena and Maddie, we made it an occasion. Now I feel almost mournful over all of the nights I missed, just hanging out, eating takeout and drinking wine in our PJs. Elena and Maddie get to spend every night together, and I now live alone in an apartment with way too much square footage, terrified of every noise I hear in the middle of the night.

“Thanks for letting me stay over tonight,” I say, propping myself up on my elbow so I can take a swig of my wine, emptying the glass. “I’m not doing too well living on my own for the first time in .?.?. Well, my entire life.”

Rogue purrs with joy as Maddie strokes the little white patch above his nose. “You’re more than welcome to move in. It could be fun!”

“Maddie, we already share the one bedroom this dump has,” Elena reminds her. “Gracie, youaremore than welcome to move in, but you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

“It’s okay, guys,” I say with a laugh, spotting the unopened third bottle of wine on the dresser. Being alone is something I need to adjust to, whether I like it or not. I slink off the bed and grab the wine. “Okay, girlies. It’s Friday night. We’re having a slumber party. We feel sick from overeating and we’re boozy. Now can we play this music louder or what?”

Maybe we shouldn’t have ignored the warning. When the old guy in the apartment next door came by at midnight to tell us to shut the hell up, we probably should have. When you’re drunk and screaming the lyrics to your favorite songs from the early 2000s, it’s difficult to rein it in. And now there’s more pounding at the apartment door, although this time twice as aggressive.

“I’m going to kick this guy to the curb,” Elena says as she jumps from the bed, fists already clenched and ready to throw it down with an elder. We are all out of breath from putting on the performance of our lives, jumping on the beds, flicking our hair like rockstars, and using the empty wine bottles as microphones.

Maddie pulls the speaker’s cable straight out of the socket, and as the three of us move into the lounge, there’s another rap against the door, and behind it a voice announces, “San Francisco Police.”

We freeze, our laughter immediately faltering.

“Oh no he did not,” Elena hisses, features twisting with anger. “The old crank called the cops!”

Maddie, being the more sensible of the two, rushes to the door before it gets busted down. As she opens it, Elena and I stay exactly where we are, our perfectly innocent smiles mastered. Still, it’s jarring to see a uniformed man at the door.

He’s an older cop, hair grayed, and he holds himself with the superiority of someone who’s been doing this their entire life. One hand rests on his duty belt, the other presses against the doorframe as he leans forward to scan the apartment behind Maddie. “We’ve had a noise complaint,” he states, his voice deep. “What’s going on here tonight?”

Now Elena, who is the bettertalkerof the two, steps forward. “Oh, officer, I’m so sorry. Were we being too loud? It’s just girls’ night. No party here. It’s such a shame there’s such awful sound insulation in this building, isn’t it? We had no idea we were making enough noise to warrant a visit from you.”

The officer doesn’t crack. His expression remains expertly neutral. “I believe a neighbor already voiced their complaints.”

“Oh? That’s news to us,” Elena lies.

“Just keep it down. Or better yet, shut the music off entirely. It’s late,” the officer snaps, and it’s very apparent he would much rather be out on the beat doing badass shit than dealing with another boring noise complaint.

“But it’s the weekend! You seem like someone who likes to have fun on a weekend, am I right?” Elena smiles wide, sweetening the officer up.

He narrows his eyes and his scowl has yet to show even a hint of fading. “Which one of you rents this place?”

Elena points to herself, then to Maddie by her side. “We do.”

“Let me see your IDs real quick.”

Elena sighs, deflated that she hasn’t won him over, and she and Maddie move from the door to go fetch their wallets. There’s a new voice in the hallway now, someone mumbling complaints, and I realize the old man next door has come out to play.

The cop rubs his forehead and turns to take care of the interferer, but also tells someone, “Check their IDs.”

And that’s when I realize there’s a second officer. He takes over at the door, stepping into the space the older officer has just left behind. My jaw slackens in humiliation.

I gasp. “Weston.”

It’s him. The guy from last weekend. Only now, rather than smashing bottles during a fist fight in the middle of the club, he’s inuniform.Dark blue pants and shirt, duty belt around his waist, radio by his collar, military boots. His armful of tattoos is hidden beneath the long sleeves of his shirt, but I still spy some ink on the back of his hand. There’s a gold name badge that saysW. REED.

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