Page 57 of You, with a View

“Rooms and beds for all, yeah, I got that. Would’ve been nice if you’d double-checked my work, is all.” I press my hand to my hot forehead. I get flushed when I fail.

Enzo’s voice blasts into my mind, screaming at me for missing the shot. Telling me I’m useless. Then I’m sitting in the cold acrylic chair in the HR director’s office at work, my boss seated next to me while they told me they appreciated my contributions, but unfortunately—

It sounded so hollow. We all knew my contributions were few, especially the previous month when I was living in a fugue state. The flush on my face and the cold rush of adrenaline when they told me I was being laid off was the first emotion I’d felt other than numb grief since Gram died. What a way to break the ice.

This isn’t the same. It’s silly and small. But I wish I could rub the feeling off my cheeks so I don’t have to think about therealmistakes I’ve made.

Paul wraps an arm around my shoulders. “It’s all right, Noelle.It’s just for a few days. Why don’t you take this room, and Theo and I can sleep on the pullout?”

“No,” Theo and I say in unison.

“That’s going to destroy your back,” Theo continues. His gaze winds over to where Paul’s arm is still encircling me, before settling on my face. He sighs, scratching at his jaw as he looks back at the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You can’t sleep on the floor.I’llsleep on the floor.”

He turns his stern eyebrows on me. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying not to sound combative and mostly failing. Very thematic. “This is my mess.”

“I could’ve checked the link when you sent it to me, and I didn’t. We’ll share this one.”

“You don’t need to make me feel bett—”

“I’m not doing anything.” His tone is businesslike, veryget your head out of your ass. I bet he’s a badass in the boardroom. I bet no one pushes him around.

My throat goes tight. He’s always been ultra competent, and in high school it was annoying but motivating. We spent years going head-to-head on everything—tennis, grades, endless verbal sparring matches—and Ialwayskept up, even if he edged me out on occasion.

But this time I can’t keep up. I have nothing to volley back, and that detonates whatever is left of my dignity. I’m raw from this fresh mess, small though it is. There have been six months of loss and stumbling, years of failure before that, and now I’m staring down the barrel of thirty and I still haven’t found my place. Theo’s willingness to own part of the mix-up is his own subtle brand of pity. It feels like a premonition.

What if I told him everything? That I’m jobless, directionless,so afraid to fail that I’llneverhave a chance at succeeding? Not the way he has, anyway. Would he react the same way he is now, with a conciliatory pat on the head? The thought makes me want to cry; it would be him giving up on me, and I don’t know why it would matter so much if he did.

The room we’re standing in is too small, too hot, too much, an unwelcome feeling that I thought I shook off when we started this trip, at least temporarily.

The thick silence is broken by a trilling phone. Theo pulls his out of the pocket of his joggers, checking the screen. From here I can see the name: Dad.

His expression pinches.

I’m already backing out of the room. “We’ll figure it out later. I’ll be out front if you need me.”

But both men are in their own world already. Paul only nods, and Theo stares down at his phone as I ease the door closed behind me.

I can’t help pausing when Paul’s voice drifts out. “You don’t have to take that. You know what he’s going to say.”

“Maybe he—”

“Your father’s opinion isn’t going to change. He wants you to do something that you know isn’t possible.” Paul’s voice is as firm as Theo’s was a minute ago. “What’s most important is thatyoucome to terms with what’s happening. Leave him out of it. He doesn’t have a say.”

“You know that’s not how it works with us,” Theo says, voice low.

“Teddy.” Paul sighs. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but now I’m invested.

That’s not true. I’vebeeninvested. I remember our game of TellMe a Secret last night, when I confessed that his life seemed perfect. I know now, even if he won’t tell me, that it’s not. But regardless of the messiness on the inside, he’s built something amazing with Where To Next. Maybe there’s something to it, that even if I feel messy and tied up and lost, it doesn’t preclude me from eventually getting it right.

I just don’t know how to get there.

The phone’s ring cuts off. Theo lets out a sigh. “Okay, well, now I missed the call.”

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