Page 29 of The Summer List

“Listen,” she whispers back, leaning forward over the couch and cupping a hand to her ear.

I step up beside her and mirror her pose. At first, I can’t hear anything except the hum of the air conditioning and Andrea’s breathing beside me. I scooch in a little closer and squint at the blanket while I strain my ears to pick up on whatever has Andrea so excited.

I’m about to straighten up and ask if she indulged in another joint this morning when I hear it.

Purring.

Something under the blanket is purring, and I’m pretty sure it’s not Priya.

My jaw drops, and I must look even more shocked than I feel; Andrea clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter as she watches me.

A wave of relief floods my body with so much force I almost drop to my knees. I force my feet to carry me to the couch, where I hunch over and lift up a corner of the blanket. A couple seconds pass, and then a pale pink nose pokes out to sniff the fresh air.

Now I really do crumple to my knees, trembling with relief as both Bijoux and Aurora Rose blink at me with bleary eyes before curling back up against Priya.

I let the blanket drop and tumble backwards to land flat on my butt. For the first time since I woke up, I feel like I can breathe.

Andrea is shaking with the force of her silent laughter, one hand braced against the arm of the couch while the other stays clamped over her mouth. A snort pushes past her fingers, and she turns and flees. I’m too stunned to do anything except sit and listen as she sprints for the door to the back deck and then explodes into loud guffaws before she even has a chance to slide the door shut.

Once I’ve recovered enough to walk, I find her sprawled on one of the rattan couches, wiping tears of laughter away with one hand while she works the elastic out of her hair with the other.

I join her on the deck, my movements jerky and robotic as I plop onto the nearest chair and sit staring out at the backyard without really seeing anything.

I’ve just experienced a week’s worth of emotions within an hour of waking up, and my body seems to be going through a system reboot.

“Those little assholes,” Andrea says, still giggling a little as she sits up enough to redo her bun. “They were right there the whole time, and they didn’t even bother meowing.”

“Uh-huh,” I say.

She must be too focused on her hair to notice my zombie state.

“Well, that’s today’s disaster all dealt with,” she continues. “Thank god I didn’t take the train to Toronto today instead of tomorrow morning. Who knows how long it would have taken you to go through the whole house on your own?”

I bob my head a few times before the meaning of her words dawns on me.

Toronto.

Train.

“Wait. Are you leaving?” I can’t stop myself from staring at her so hard I forget to blink. “Like, tomorrow?”

She presses her lips together for a moment. “I mean…yeah. My mom wants me to go back and sort my life out, and I mean…I’m literally living out of garbage bags. I don’t really know what else to do.”

“Oh.”

I knew she was only staying for a few days, but somehow, I figured I’d get some warning.

I drop my gaze when I realize how stupid I’m being. I’ve known her for three days. She doesn’t owe me a warning. She doesn’t owe me anything.

My chest goes hollow at the thought.

“So you’re doing that internship?” I ask, turning my attention to the yard again. Most of the dew has evaporated off the grass now. I can smell chlorine wafting off the pool.

“I…” She trails off and slumps back down on the couch cushions again. “I don’t really want to think about it. I start my internship at the end of August, and I guess I’ll just…figure something out for the rest of the summer.”

“Do you think you’ll get back together with your boyfriend?” I blurt.

I want to pull the question back into my mouth as soon as I say it. My cheeks burn as I stare so hard at a tree across the yard I almost expect one of its branches to snap off.

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