I can't help but smile at her greeting, it brings a strange sense of relief that she still seems excited at the prospect of me moving in.
She pulls back the door and urges me inside. As I step over the threshold, I notice how her face is fresher than I remember, cheeks tinged pink and hazel eyes appearing smaller without any makeup on them. She told me before that she works late shifts and typically doesn't start her day until late morning. It's been a struggle trying to find the right time to get together about the lease. The majority of our conversations have been through text messages.
"Thanks for letting me come early. I have another class in an hour," I say, as I walk further inside.
The entrance yields to a kitchen, then a living room further down. The decor is simple and unassuming. Ava's mismatched furniture is sort of chic in a way that looks effortless and intentional at the same time. The place is clean and smells like laundry detergent, which I appreciate. Most of the places I checked out on campus left me afraid to touch any of the surfaces with my bare hands.
I follow her into the living room, as she says, "No, I should be thanking you for dragging me out of bed. I don't usually get anything done before my afternoon classes. I should be studying for finals. I won't have time next week between work and exams."
"Sounds like you've got a crazier work schedule than I do," I say, taking her lead and sitting down on one of the tan couches. Settled in beside me, Ava pulls one of the decorative pillows onto her lap.
"You mentioned before that you work nearby?"
"I bartend over at Callistro's Bar and Grill."
"Love that place. Great ribs, drinks are great, too. I used to date one of the bartenders..." Ava perks up as she launches into a salacious story of her short but intense fling with a bartender named Derik. I've worked shifts with him, and I'm surprised to hear of this considering his quiet, almost timid demeanor.
Ava and I go on chatting for a while, pretending the point of me being here is just to visit instead of to meet her cousin so we can make the ultimate decision on moving in. I don't mind passing the time with Ava. She's easy to talk to, asking me questions about my life, my major, and whether I've started dating--a question she asked the first time we met and I may have responded to a bit defensively.
Ava pries that topic open a bit more and asks, "Did you just go through a breakup or something?"
"I did. I'm a little bitter at the moment, to be honest."
"Yeah, I've been there," she says. "It will pass. You're just in the fire-breathing stage of the breakup. The hurt and anger will fade until it's all a distant memory."
She says it with so much certainty that I want to take her words, fold them, and tuck them away inside, to remind myself later. Even though I know full well that her advice doesn't apply to my situation.
I don't typically discuss my personal life with someone I barely know, but the truth is I don't have anyone else I can confide in lately. Ava's one of those people that leans into your words like you're the most interesting person in the world, her eyes eager as she listens intently. Maybe too intently.
Eventually, though, she reaches the outskirts of a topic I'm not comfortable with, asking me what my deciding factor was in moving down from Newport Beach. I keep my answer vague and ease my way right out of the conversation.
"So, my room would be one of the two at the end of the hall, right?" She nods and I continue, "And you'll be in the master suite at the other end?"
"No, I'll be on the first room to the right, on your end of the hall."
I pull the lease out of my purse, taking a second to smooth it out on the coffee table, wondering if the question I really want to ask is any of my business. But I can't help it. I never can.
"Why don't you want the master suite?"
A polite smile crosses her face and she busies herself with adjusting the back of her bun as she says, "When I told my mom I'd take over the mortgage, I was in a position to afford it with just one roommate. But a month later my mom got sick. I'm saving every expense to pay for her care. My cousin can afford to pay for the larger portion of the rent and, really, I don't mind the smaller room."
My stomach clenches with discomfort at having prodded into such a personal topic. Silence follows that I'm meant to fill, but I swallow instead, grateful when Ava looks down to the lease papers in front of me and changes the subject.
"Oh, awesome, you already signed everything. Guess it's a done deal?"
I smile. "I'm ready to move my stuff in this weekend. Let's just hope your cousin doesn't immediately hate my guts."
Her eyes are trained on the pages in her hands as she flips through, looking for the portions that require her signature.
"Don't worry," she says, "I'm not related to any murderers or drug dealers that I know of. Family knows each other's secrets better than strangers, you know? Renting to strangers is always a roll of the dice; you never know what you'll get. No offense, you seem great."
"No, I know exactly what you mean. I've only lived with my family up until now. This is...different for me. But I'm excited." My lips tug into something that doesn't truly match the anxiety stirring on the inside. I'm still nervous about taking this step, moving out on my own for the first time with people I barely know. But Ava's right...I don't know her any better than I know the cousin I've never met. I doubt Ava would want to live with this girl if she were someone impossible to get along with. "Will she be here soon?" I ask Ava, checking the time to realize we've been waiting a while.
"Umm...she?" Ava straightens out the papers she just finished signing and nervously glances at her watch. "My cousin's a guy."
My jaw goes lax and a brief panic takes hold of me. "What?"
Her response is interrupted by a click from the front door as the knob turns. She and I get to our feet just as a tall guy walks in, bringing with him a burst of masculine energy that seems to absorb all of the air in the room.
We lock eyes, he and I, and my stomach takes a downward plunge. It's him. The asshole from the coffee shop. He's standing in my new living room, eyebrows lifting slightly, either from surprise or in anticipation of being introduced. Mouth parted in confusion, I turn helplessly to Ava and find her staring at me, too.
Mere seconds pass where I internally panic at the unexpected situation. No...no, no, no. Please don't let it be true.
"This is Giles," Ava says. "Our third roommate."
"Technically second," he corrects.
I quickly recover from my shock and turn to Ava. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Uh, sure." She leads me down the short hall and into the empty room that is set to be mine. I follow her in silence until she turns to address me again. "What's wrong?"
She's feigning innocence in such a convincing way, I'd almost believe her if I didn't know better. My head swells with hot air and I swallow back a sharp word in an attempt to keep my tone calm.