Page 4 of Seeds of Friendship
“I need to throw up first,” Ethan announces.
“Charming,” Alfie says.
This is going to be a long fucking year.
2
The house is actually... not terrible.
It's this old Victorian-looking place painted white, sitting on a corner lot like it's been there since the university was founded. The porch wraps around. There's an actual yard, and I can see why they usually reserve it for seniors. It looks like a real house, not some shitty student rental.
“Holy shit,” Ethan says, suddenly more awake. “This is way nicer than Crawford Hall.”
“Don't get excited,” Alfie mutters.
Troy unlocks the door and we file in. The living room is huge—mismatched furniture that's seen better days, but clean-ish. There's a brick fireplace, built-in bookshelves, and windows that actually let in light. The kitchen's dated but functional, with a table that could seat eight if you're friendly.
“I call the room furthest from everyone,” Alfie announces, already heading up the stairs.
“Dude, we haven't even seen them yet,” Troy protests.
“Don't care.”
We follow him up. There are four bedrooms, two on each side of the hallway, with a bathroom at each end. Alfie's alreadyclaimed the back left room, dropping his expensive luggage like he's marking territory.
“I need the one closest to the bathroom,” Ethan says, still looking green. “For... reasons.”
That leaves Troy and me with the two front rooms. We look at each other.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests.
“You're on.”
He throws rock. I throw paper. The room on the right is mine—bigger windows, better light. Troy doesn't even look annoyed, just shrugs and heads to his room.
I drop my stuff and head back downstairs. Ethan's already claimed the couch, looking like death warmed over. Troy's in the kitchen, opening cabinets and frowning at their emptiness.
“We need supplies,” he announces. “Food, cleaning stuff, probably some basic dishes that haven't been touched by whoever lived here before.”
“I'm not moving.” Ethan groans.
“I'll go,” I offer, mostly to get out of this awkward energy. “There's probably a Target or something nearby.”
“I'll come,” Troy says immediately. “Someone needs to make sure you don't just buy beer and cereal.”
“I wasn't going to?—”
“You were absolutely going to.”
He's not wrong.
Alfie appears at the bottom of the stairs. “Get toilet paper. Good toilet paper. I'm not suffering with single-ply for a year.”
“Anything else, your highness?” Troy asks.
Alfie considers this. “Coffee. Decent coffee. And if any of you drink instant, I'm moving out.”
“Coffee snob,” Ethan calls from the couch.
