Page 33 of Nowhere Like Home

Gillian bent over to stretch. She had a short torso and long, thin legs. “Sometimes. But I mostly fact-check. It’s boring.”

“I copy edit. Also boring.”

“Two peas in a pod. Butyouget to write, don’t you?” Gillian cocked her head. “I was under the impression everyone atCity Gossipcould write if they wanted to.”

Lenna leaned back on the heels of her hands. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

Gillian gave her a discerning look. “Really? Huh.”

The instructor strode in, hitting a button on the thermostat to start the room’s gradual temperature climb to 110 degrees. For the next hour, Lenna and Gillian downward dogged and pigeon posed, sweat dripping from their noses. It was fun, sharing something with someone else.

The next day in the office, Lenna’s phone rang. The caller ID saidCALLER UNKNOWN.She answered, thinking it was Rhiannon. She hated how her pulse spiked, how excited she felt. It was Gillian’s voice on the other end.

“Where are you?” Lenna asked, looking at the caller ID screen again. Interbuilding calls always popped up on the caller ID. You didn’t even have to dial a whole number, only an extension.

“Sorry, I’m in my car,” Gillian said. “I lost my phone, but I think it’s somewhere in my house, and I’m being cheap by using this random one temporarily.”

“Have you tried the Find My Phone app?”

“It doesn’t seem to work when your phone’s dead. Anyway, I was wondering. Since you’re having a hard time atCity Gossip,would you like to write something forWellness?”

Lenna blinked. “Seriously?”

“Sure. I think I can swing something with my boss.” She coughed. “Also, do you want to go to this thing with me tonight? It’s an open mic poetry reading. A little cheesy, but it’s fun—and, you know, we could talk about your writing.”

“Um…” Open mic poetry absolutely wasn’t something Lenna was into, and going out with Gillian two times in one week felt kind of…fast? Intense?

But maybe she was serious about the writing offer. It wasn’t like Lenna was getting anywhere atCity Gossip.But Lenna couldn’t bring herself to tell Rich she was interested. It was such a Pyrrhic victory.

Frederick was a dead end, too. After Rhiannon told her not to go out with him, Lenna hadn’t responded to the jokey emails Frederick sent her and pretended not to notice when he tried to get her attention from across the office. She was so terrified he was going to confront her about why she’d done such an about-face—and she didn’t know how to have that conversation—that whenever she saw him in the halls, she spun around and went the other direction. Soon enough, Frederick started to actively avoid her, too—she even caught him reversing direction when he spotted her, just as she did. And then, yesterday, she’d noticed Frederick hanging out with someone new they’d hired in the art department, a petite woman with blunt-cut, shiny black hair and an amazing shoe collection. So that was that.

Anyway. Gillian picked her up at the curb outside the building. Her car, a Prius, was filled with pictures taped to the dashboard. There were a few postcards from MoMA in New York, some pictures from a trip to Joshua Tree National Park, and a photo of Gillian arm in arm with an attractive woman with white-blond hair and thin lips.

“Your…partner?” Lenna asked.

“Nope. My best friend. Sadie.”

“Oh.”

Gillian let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I know. It’s probably weird to have a picture of your friend in your car. Especially because we’re in fights so much these days.”

“What do you fight about?”

Gillian eased on the brake. “Dumb stuff. We’re roommates. Well, technically, I’m crashing there for now. I’d never be able to afford half the mortgage. You should see her house. It’s amazing. In the Hills!”

“Wow. Lucky.”

“Sadie’s a doctor.” Gillian rolled her eyes. “Wish I’d been smart enough to do that, because she makes good money.” She paused at another stoplight. “You got a roommate?”

Lenna laughed. “I’m in a studio. Having a roommate would be awful in somewhere so small.”

“You dating anyone?”

Lenna shook her head. “You?”

“Nah.” Gillian shut her eyes. “I’m thirty-three years old, and I swear I have the relationship IQ of a sixteen-year-old. That’s when my last good relationship was.” She said this somewhat cheerfully, but Lenna felt concerned.

“You’ve just been unlucky since then?” Lenna asked.

---