Page 82 of Hits Different

“You don’t have the first idea about the monsters that live under my bed, Millie. Drop it now”, I meet her right in the eyes. “You’ve interfered in my life enough already. More than enough".

Her eyes fall and I feel a pinch of guilt.

“I’m sorry about that. Truly. I don’t know what came over me”, she pauses. “I’m glad that you and Brandon have worked things out. Youhaveworked things out, haven’t you?”

I don’t want to answer that. I don’t want to talk about Brandon with her.

“You never liked him, did you?”

She presses her lips together thoughtfully. “I didn’t like the fact that he was clearly in love with my boyfriend. And that made me do things that I wouldn’t normally do. I don’t regret what we did. Just why I did it. But now that I’m in a happy relationship myself, I realise that I was wrong”.

“Did you ever feel…” I start, suddenly alarmed.

“I never felt forced”, Millie says quickly. “I wanted to. It’swhyI wanted to that I need to work on”.

“You’re seeing someone?”

She nods. “Someone from my internship”.

“A lawyer?”

“No, Parker, he’s an astronaut”. She rolls her eyes, and suddenly I’m reminded that her spark was one of the things I liked most about her. “Of course he’s a lawyer”.

We talk for another hour. Outside, rain begins to pour. People are rushing across the street, using newspapers for umbrellas. Soon, we’re the last two people still seated.

“If it’s not too cringe, I’d like us to be friends. Like we were before”, she reminds me. When I don’t immediately reply she adds, “Or at least on friendly terms”.

I hesitate. Truth is, I don’t have any female friends. I’ve only ever had women I’ve slept with, and women who I wanted to sleep with. Maybe some occasional polite chit chat with a friend’s girlfriend. But never a real friendship. Damn. How is it possible that I don’t have any friends who are girls?

“There’s something else”, Millie slips her jacket back on as I pay the bill. “I’d like the chance to apologise to Carter too. If you think he might be open to it”.

I open my mouth to say no, but it’s not my call. “I’ll try him”. I take out my phone, and realise I haven’t heard from him at all today, which is unusual to say the least. Normally we’re blowing each other up with stupid memes or videos. I call, but the line immediately disconnects. “He’s turned his phone off”, I say in surprise.

Outside, there’s another flash of lightning.

* * * *

Brandon has his own room in the client’s quarters. I use my staff code to get into the building. I knock on his door, but the door opposite opens instead. Deano, a player from the UK, tumbles out, music blaring from his headphones.

“Looking for Carter?” Deano asks, “He said he was going out for a run. I told him the weather was nuts. He’s been out there all day. He’s making the rest of us look bad”.

“He wouldn’t still be out now, would he?” Millie says doubtfully. "Not in this".

Deano shrugs. “Hope not. It’s dangerous near those hill tops”. He nods towards Millie’s shopping bags, “Is this a new perk from management? Should I expect a gift bag waiting for me when I get back too?”

I start, awkwardly.

“Relax”, Deano laughs, “I know it’s his birthday in a few days”. He finishes stretching and heads off with a backward wave. Shit. Brandon’s birthday. Why didn’t he mention it? More importantly, why didn’t I remember?

Millie knocks on Brandon’s door again, and it creaks open.

I’ve never been in his bedroom. It feels a bit like I’ve crossed into forbidden territory. Being invited into his room feels like a step that should be taken together, but it’s like I’ve used some cheat code to get closer to him without his permission.

His personality is everywhere. Empty dishes. Vinyl records. A ton of soccer autobiographies. Textbooks for next year’s classes.

I spent most of my life in his old bedroom at home. Soccer. Sleepovers. Homework sessions. From kids to young men. Now all I can think about is the prospect of him out in this storm, lying in a ditch somewhere, unable to call for help.This is why you don’t love people, an errant voice angrily reminds me,because you can’t keep them safe.

“Where the hell is he?” I checked in with the office on our way back and nobody had seen him either. “Millie. Tell me I’m being paranoid. Or that I’m overreacting”.

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