Page 62 of Kitten

“Maybe. But living with him still feels wrong. Like, if I move in with him now, I’ll never move out again.”

“Right. You know what I think? I think you actuallydon’tfeel bad about what this would do to him, but about what it would do to you.”

“Okay.” I shifted, uncomfortable. “And by that you mean…”

“I mean there’s some part of you that realizes it would be the easy thing to do. Maybe you wanted easy before, but you don’t anymore. You want something of your own.”

I took a sip from my glass.

“I’m good, right?” Lou stuffed three chips into her mouth all at once. “I should bill you.”

Her smirk softened into a smile. One of her real ones, where her top lip thinned so her front teeth peeked out. I felt very humble and indebted to her at that moment, like I should maybe kneel on the ground and kiss her socks. I could picture myself doing it, and the way she’d look from below, chin raised, laughing. James was right. I always said Lou didn’t like me. But look! She loved me.

“Well, then, what’s up with you? Becca wants to move out?”

“Her dad’s buying. Let me get more drunk first.”

Lou gripped the nearly empty bottle of wine with both hands, shaking it upside down to release the last dregs. It was the same way I used to handle the glass ketchup bottles in our dining hall, for which she always teased me. I understood that this small performance was her way of apologizing for whatever she felt she needed to apologize for. But I didn’t care, all was forgiven, and right then, watching the table splatter with wine, I felt we were on the precipice of a new friendship that we not only wanted but also deserved.

It turned out I was right about Nicolo being a terrible roommate for Lou. He menaced her constantly, ate her leftovers, and never removed his laundry from the dryer. He slammed doors on occasion, and if he got too drunk, he inevitably hit on women who were not Becca. Lou didn’tcare to hide her animosity toward Nicolo, which annoyed Becca. They had a “family” conversation to talk things through, which led Nicolo to blame Lou for being passive and not communicating expectations, which led to Lou accusing Nicolo of being lazy and fascist, which Nicolo said was racist against Italians, which Lou said wasn’t possible, and also, he was the racist one because he said I reminded him of Mulan. “I can’t believe he would say that you’re passive,” was the only thing I could think to say after she finished.

“I know, right? Anyway, Becca probably won’t dump him, and her dad will buy a gorgeous apartment, and they’ll probably end up moving there. It literally pains me to think of Nicolo living somewhere nicer than me.”

“This place is already really nice.”

“You think? Wait, Katie, if you don’t want to live with James, why don’t you move in with me?”

“I doubt I could afford it.”

“It’ll be more than Anna’s, yeah, but how much were you paying for that again?”

“Five hundred.”

“Wow,” said Lou. “She gave you a good deal. Well, this won’t be like that, but it’s a good location. Sixteen hundred is pretty low, considering.”

“Each?”

“Well, yeah.”

“There’s no way.”

“Please, please,” Lou clasped her hands. “I don’t want to have to hunt for a new roommate. I hate everyone.”

“What about your art friends?”

“Becca’s the only one I can actually stand. Why do you think I kept living with you?”

“I have a job interview next week,” I said. “So let’s see.”

Lou squealed. I told her about the job, and she made jokes about the type of people I would have to deal with at a nonprofit. I laughed because her delivery was funny and I was getting drunk. I knew I probably shouldn’t get too drunk, but my brain wanted to be numbed.

We went through a second bottle of wine easily, and when that was done, she brandished Nicolo’s handle of vodka. “I shouldn’t,” I said. Lou either didn’t hear me or didn’t care, and I went from being woozy to gone in two shots.

In the bathroom, I looked at my face in the mirror. Chapped red lips, shirt chalky with pizza-flavored dust. I tried to imagine that this mirror was my mirror, that the toilet next to me would be the one I peed in for the next year. But what about the new dresser, what about BLÅHAJ, untouched and unloved, on James’s bedroom floor? I closed my eyes and wished for some third option to find me. Dots of green and violet danced beneath my eyelids. If only I could stay forever in this dark untouchable state, but life insisted on letting the light in, multiplying the colors.

I considered my options and how I got here. I was grateful for Lou’s offer, and for James’s apartment with the new furniture. But did I really want either? If I let myself be indulgent, I knew what I wanted. One last swim with Silver. One more night in my mother’s house, before I got old and she got sad.

I thought about all this for a long time until the colorsbehind my eyes became starry and I had to throw up. Then I put my fingers in my throat and projected firmly into the toilet bowl. I felt much better afterward. Lou’s voice traveled from the living room, calling my name. I thought to myself: Okay, this is your life, and it is honestly fine.