The door creaks open as I step into my small apartment. The scent of vanilla candles that Julia bought on sale and leftover pizza wraps around me in a weird kind of welcome. This is more than I ever asked. This feels like home I never had. Though small and rented, I resonate with this place.
Julia's stretched out across the couch like a queen surveying her kingdom, a bag of half-eaten chips resting on her stomach, her phone balanced loosely in one hand. She wears her favorite brown tank top that compliments her exotic tan skin. Sometimes I wish I was as hot as her.
"Welcome back, grocery goddess," she welcomes me without looking up.
I grunt something unintelligible and shuffle into the tiny kitchen. The bags feel heavier now, not because I bought too much, but because my arms are tired in a way that isn't physical. I drop them onto the counter with a soft thud and start unpacking, letting the repetitive motion anchor me.
"You're back late," Julia says through a crunch. "Liam's being super annoying today. Said he was five minutes away twenty minutes ago. If he's not here soon, I'm gonna make out with the neighbor's cat out of boredom and go on a date with him instead."
I laugh under my breath, tugging a box of cereal free from one of the bags. "Poor Liam. I bet he doesn't know he's about to be replaced by a tomcat."
"To be fairly honest, at least a tomcat wouldn't let me wait this long every time, duh."
I shove the cereal into the cupboard and start stacking instant noodles next to it. Me and Julia has different taste in noodles. I love fried noodles, she prefers spicy noodles soup. Don't even dare to separate Julia with spicy. Her Latina's spice tolerance is way far beyond my limit.
Julia keeps yapping about the thought of making out with the neighbor's cat. The usual chaos is oddly comforting after the supermarket encounter, like stepping back into a world where my problems can't quite follow. She's a good roommate. A perfect one for me I must say. She brightens my day.
"You're good, though?" she asks, softer now. I glance over my shoulder and find her watching me over the back of the couch. "You look ... I dunno. Weird. Sad weird. Not your usual spaced-out weird."
I hesitate with a carton of milk in my hand. Her words sting a little, but not because they're mean. Because they're true. "Supermarket was ... eventful," I mutter, stuffing the milk into the fridge and slamming it shut a little harder than necessary.
Julia sits up properly, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. "How?"
I smile weakly and shake my head, leaning back against the counter. "Nope. Just ran into a few unexpected ... people."
She narrows her eyes, picking up the thread immediately. "Felix?"
"And Elliot, unfortunately," I add, voice low.
Julia's whole face changes. She drops the bag of chips onto the floor and swings her legs around like she's preparing for battle. "Wait. Elliot? As in Elliot? Your stupid obsessive annoying ex?!"
I huff out a laugh despite the weight pressing on my chest. "Yeah. That Elliot." I move from the kitchen to the living room, perching on the armrest of the couch. My body feels too heavy to sit properly.
"What did he do?" she asks, seems serious now. "If he even breathed in your direction wrong, I swear to God—"
"He didn't," I cut her off. "Not really. He just ... acted like nothing happened. Like we're old friends catching up after a long time."
Julia's nose wrinkles in disgust. "Even worse. Classic manipulator move. Pretend everything's fine so you look crazy for being uncomfortable."
I nod absently, twisting a loose thread on my sweater. "It's just weird, you know? How easily can people act without even feeling sorry about how they make you feel in the past."
There's a beat of silence. Julia looks at me with a softness she doesn't often show. I blink a few times, willing the sting behind my eyes to stay where it belongs. "And Felix?" she asks after a moment, her voice gentler. "Was he ... helpful? Or just Felix-ing all over the place?"
I snort. "He was actually behaved. Weirdly. He kind of distracted me."
Julia grins. "Sounds about right. That man flirts like he breathes. It's honestly impressive how he could do that on a daily basis."
I shake my head, smiling a little. "He's dangerous, though."
"Yeah, no shit. Doesn't mean he's evil, though. Just ... chaotic neutral. But still, he's a playboy! Still careful, yeah?"
"And then ...." I trail off, feeling the weight of the memory settle over me again.
She raise her eyebrow. She sits straighter. "There's more?"
"There was someone else. Just watching me. Not creepy. Just quiet." I chew my lip. "He looked ... different."
"Different how? Like he wanted to save you or murder you?"
I laugh again, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. "I don't know. Maybe both? Or even none of them?"
Julia taps her chin dramatically. "Mysterious stranger trope unlocked."
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying! You're out here living a full young adult novel plot and I'm stuck dealing with Liam texting me 'where r u' when he's the one who's late."
I shake my head, pushing myself off the armrest and gathering the empty grocery bags. Somehow, talking about it makes it all feel a little lighter. A little less impossible.
Julia watches me carefully. "You're not falling back into old patterns, right?"
I pause.
"You know. Feeling like you owe people your life something just because they show up."
Her words slice through me, sharp and surgical. "I'm not," I say, and for once, I mean it.
Julia smiles and leans back against the couch, looking satisfied. "Good. 'Cause you're a freaking masterpiece, and we don't let unfinished brushstrokes like Elliot mess up the canvas."
How does she always come up with some ridiculous metaphors, but feels right and real? "You sound more like a fine art major than me."
Somewhere deep down, I know things are about to get more complicated. Felix, Theo, Elliot—they're all pieces of something bigger. But right now, here in this messy little apartment with Julia grinning at me like an idiot, it feels like I can handle it.