Page 104 of Hot Summer

“I feel like we need to get out of here,” Ada said, rocking back and forth on her heels, arms crossed in an attempt to stay warm. It was unseasonably cold for mid-August, but especially so after weeks spent in Cypriot sun. “I keep thinking they’re going to bust out this door any second and drag us back into the studio.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Cas pulled off her leather jacket and draped it across Ada’s shoulders, and Ada smiled gratefully at her.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“No,” Cas lied, and she immediately shivered, giving herself away.

Ada rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and though she didn’t return Cas’s jacket, she did step into Cas’s side, let her share a bit of body heat.

They stood there, the silence genuinely awkward for the first time since they’d met. A car horn beeped a few streets away, there was an ambulance off in the distance, and it was strange, seeing Ada in this context, out in the real world.

“Can you believe they brought Brad out?” Ada said. She was scowling at the office building opposite them, the traffic signal lights reflected in the glass. “What the fuck were they expecting?”

“You to forgive him, I guess.”

“Right.” Ada kicked a pebble with her shoe and they both watched as it bounced into the road. “He called me a fucking whore on national television. He can choke.”

A black sedan pulled up outside the studio, the red lights flashing bright against the pavement. Ada stepped forward to check the number plate before opening the back door.

“Who are you here for?”

“Ada?”

“Okay, cool.” Ada stepped back and held the door, gesturing for Cas to go in first. “That’s us.”

Neither of them spoke as they drove. The traffic of Central London was stop-and-go until they hit about Whitechapel, then it thinned out, albeit slightly, as they continued east. Ada’s flat was in Mile End, just off Regent’s Canal, and she added a tip to her drive request as they stepped out onto the pavement.

Ada was carrying a small bag, little more than the size of her palm, but she just managed to stuff her phone inside after removing her key.

“We’re upstairs,” Ada said quietly, bending to grab the mail out of the basket inside the door. She stuffed it under her arm as she unlocked her flat door and they made their way upstairs.

“My flatmates are out,” Ada said. She grabbed the banister at the top of the stairs, using it to balance as she took off her heels.

“What are your flatmates’ names?” Cas asked. She set her shoes along the wall near the piles of trainers just inside the door.

“Shan and Elsie.” Ada tossed the mail onto the small side table before sliding out of Cas’s jacket. She half extended her arm like she was going to hand it back to Cas before she froze. “Do you... Are you cold?”

When Cas shook her head, Ada hung the jacket on the hooks over the shoe rack.

It was so awkward, almost unbearably so. Even in the best of circumstances, Cas knew that it would likely be a bit weird, being in each other’s actual houses after so long in the villa together. Getting used to all the idiosyncrasies of each other’s actual lives. Cas and Ada had the added bonus of not even knowing what they were to each other at this point.

Cas didn’t know if things were okay or if she needed to brace herself for another emotional sucker punch.

“I’m going to run to my room and put my shoes away,” Ada said, breaking the silence. “You can take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

Ada switched on a lamp in the living room as she disappeared farther into the flat, the creak of a door the only thing announcing that she’d reached her destination. Cas hesitated for a moment longer before she took a deep breath.

“You’re fine,” she whispered to herself. “Just go sit down.”

Ada’s living room was small, but about what Cas would have expected for a flat in Central London, and certainly no smaller than her own. They had a gray L-shaped sofa and a collection of furniture that was just mix-match enough to feel intentionally eclectic. They had a white-tiled end table with a wavy iron lamp on the side closest to the door, the pink shade diffusing the light so it gave a soft glow to the room. The coffee table was reclaimed wood and iron, and in the center, there was a plant in a mirrorball planter that reflected the lamplight around the room so tiny rainbows shot across the walls. They had a small shelf with some art hanging above the sofa, a few more plants and a smaller cement lamp on the window ledge over the radiator. There were stacks of books and board games in the corner, a pile of Switch games under the television stand. It was the kind of place that Cas would have gladly spent hours of her life.

She’d just sat down on the edge of the sofa when Ada walked back out of her bedroom, and Cas immediately hopped to her feet again.

“No, no, sit down,” Ada said, waving her down. “Can I get you some tea? Water?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Cas said automatically, but Ada just shot her a look.

“I’m having tea. So if you want some, it’s really no trouble.”

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