Page 60 of Worst in Show

“Stay where you are,” I hear Leo say in a tight voice. “No. Stay.”

Is he talking to me? “Leo?”

Silence.

Is there someone in there with him? What if he’s being robbed? I look around for something to use as a weapon but come up short. My heart is racing as I tiptoe the last few steps to his storage room. I peer around the corner, and there’s Leo, alone on top of a hay bale. No intruder. I relax and enter the room. “What’s going on? Who were you talking to?”

He waves at me to stop. “Shh. Don’t move.” His eyes roam the floor beneath him.

“Why are you up there?” I can’t believe I didn’t think to incorporate hay bales into my decor. I’ll have to rectify that. You’re not supposed to bring them inside though. Sometimes they have fleas and other critt—

“Ah!” Leo shouts, pointing at the floor. “There.”

A tiny mouse runs out from under a shelf and disappears beneath another. I look from the floor to Leo’s colorless face and back again. The mouse comes back out and sniffs the air.

“Aw, so cute.” I crouch down to get a closer look, and it doesn’t seem scared at all.

“No, not cute.” Leo shudders from his high perch. “It’s disgusting.”

I straighten and assess the situation, trying my best not to smile. “I take it you don’t like rodents.”

“You wouldn’t either if you’d woken up one night when you were five with a mouse inside your pajama shirt. Can you get it out of here? Tilly was no help at all.”

Yikes, that would do it. Still, I pretend to think about it. “Not sure if I should. You were pretty smug about the spider in the mailbox.”

“I’m sorry, okay? Just please.” Leo looks down, another shudder making him adjust his stance on the bale. “I going to stay here until it’s gone, so unless you want to miss training…”

“Yeah, no. That seems unnecessary. Do you have any peanut butter upstairs?”

“I do.”

“Okay give me your keys.”

Leo hesitates. “You’re going into my apartment?”

His reluctance is intriguing. He let Jaz up there. What is it he doesn’t want me to see? “Do you want me to get rid of the mouse or not?”

He digs his key out of his pocket and tosses it to me. “Please be quick.”

Opening the door to his place feels exactly like entering my parents’ bedroom when I was little. I wasn’t allowed in there unless there was an emergency, so it was forever a place shrouded in mystery where possible treasures might be hidden. I snuck in once in fifth grade and went through Mom’s jewelry chest. I lived on that high for a while.

The space smells like Leo but in more concentrated form. I inhale deeply and make my way to his kitchen cabinets. I would have expected to find a stash of health foods on sparsely stocked shelves, but the offerings are surprisingly normal. A package of Oreos sits next to a box of granola. There are English muffins and white rice. His fridge has yogurts and eggs but also beer and takeout leftovers. Yeah, I know the peanut butter isn’t likely to be in the fridge, but despite the saying, I’m not sure curiosity ever has killed the cat. I may never get this chance again.

Satisfied with my findings, I grab the peanut butter and an empty Tupperware container and set course for the door. I almost miss the letter, but my gaze snags on it at the final moment. Like Jaz said, it’s sitting in the middle of the table. Calling my name. A quick look, that’s all.

Careful not to disturb the envelope, I read the full address of the sender. It’s from a Samantha Salinger, and the postal address is in Seattle. “Maybe he has a sister?” I mumble. If not, the last name takes on a whole different meaning.

The stairs outside creak, and I jump back. Time to get out of here.

Leo hasn’t moved when I return.

“Took you long enough,” he says, jaw tense.

I ignore him and get down on the floor. Who is Samantha? “Where did you last see it?”

He points, and I smear a dab of the sweet and savory spread on the floorboard. “Here, mousy, mousy,” I coo. “Got you a treat.”

It doesn’t take long before the little critter emerges, whiskers shivering. It heads straight for the food, and once it’s there, I lower the container over it. I slide a piece of cardboard beneath it, and, voilà, the mouse is airborne. “There. You’re safe,” I tell Leo.

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