Page 148 of Debugging Love

“Left!” Drew hollers when he reaches the bottom step.

“I can’t turn yet,” Chance says. “I’m still halfway up the steps.”

“Left!” Drew yells again.

Chance pauses, forcing the bulk of the weight onto Drew’s superior quadriceps. Drew’s face turns red. He jerks his head to flick his bangs out of his eyes but they’re plastered to his forehead with sweat.

“You realize your left is my right?” Chance says.

Drew heaves the chaise to his shoulders like a powerlifter. “Left!” he squeaks.

They make it to the bottom, no thanks to Drill Sargent Drew, and drop it in the center of the living room. I still have half a can of Perfect Pink and I intend to paint an accent wall before we arrange the furniture.

We continue working in the unrelenting heat. Two hours later DoorDash arrives with large pizzas and two cold liters of Coke. Our progress halts while we hover around the kitchen island devouring the food.

“I’m bringing Reese’s Pieces next Friday,” Morgan says, referring to our ongoing Candy Pong tournament. Last week it was Nerds Gummy Clusters. The week before that, M&Ms.

The office has gotten a little crazier since Bruce took over as boss. He’s like Christopher on steroids—team building at every opportunity, including midday darts or ping pong or whatever else he dreams up.

We have a new project due in three months for Corporate Accounting. As Senior Developer (thanks to Bruce), I’m heading up the team of eight, with Chance as Lead Architect. He’sin charge of design as long as he updates my kanban board regularly, which is hard to do when he’s playing ping pong. It’s fine. He hasn’t missed a deadline yet.

“Let’s not talk about work,” I say. “I don’t want Willa to feel left out.”

“I don’t mind,” Willa says. “It’s helping me get up to speed.”

The conversation segues toBridgerton, which Drew interrupts to talk about anime. Morgan steers him back, and then we eat too much of the complimentary brownie pizza and groan our way into the living room.

“I’d love to help you guys unpack, but if I bend over, I might throw up,” Morgan says.

“Best. Brownie. Ever,” Kayla says as she rubs her protruding stomach.

Morgan and Kayla leave with Drew, Willa goes to her bedroom to unpack, and Chance and I begin working on my bedroom. At nine thirty, he retrieves his laptop from his apartment. He sets it on my bed, and we wait for his parents to ping him on Zoom.

They call at ten o’clock on the dot while I’m arranging the closet in my bathroom.

“Danni,” Chance calls. “C’mere.”

I set a stack of towels on the vanity and join Chance on the bed. His mom, dad, and dadi are smiling at us from their dining room table.

“You both look exhausted,” his mom says worriedly.

“My sister and I moved into a new apartment today. Chance used his big strong arms to move our furniture.”

“And my legs. And my back.” He winces.

“I suppose that is an appropriate reason for him to be in your bedroom,” Dadi says.

“Don’t worry, Dadi. I sleep upstairs in my apartment.”

“You better.”

Chance’s mom discusses details about Tivri’s pregnancy, which they announced a few weeks ago. Everything is going smoothly. They have a name but don’t plan to tell us if it’s a girl or a boy.

“You’ll have to return to India in six months to see your niece or nephew,” Dadi says.

“That should work out.”

“Should?” Dadi squints at Chance. “Will. Right, son?” She elbows Chance’s dad.

---