Page 5 of You'll Love it Here

The front door opens swiftly after, but it’s not Irene. The firefighter is guiding a guy with extremely pale skin, hunched shoulders, and stringy beige hair. His uncertain walk, the way his eyes are two wide-open beacons... Oh my god, it’s the Incel in 1A! I’d almost forgotten he existed. I’ve seen him leave exactly two times in the five years we’ve both lived here. Once, because his grocery delivery guy couldn’t get our finicky buzzer to work; the other, I caught him running out of the laundry room—he left the smell of musty hair sebum in his wake (and I had to stare at the floor for a bit to cope with this violation). I’m sure he’s left his unit more than that, but I can’t be positive...

He and the firefighter make their way out the door, and all our gazes crawl their way. “Well, I’ll be,” grunts Old White Perve. 1A brushes his stringy hair back and glances our way, a panicked look seeping into his widening eyes. His gait is awkward and he’s shaking a bit. He has an anxious, depressing aura—in fact, he seems to be doing exactly the opposite of whatever “lighting up a room” would be. He glares toward Weird Girl Beside Me... very Incel. If this were the ’90s, he’d channel his energy into taking a ferret or lizard out in public, and we’d all be better off.

Weird Girl Beside Me’s cat lets out a loud and distressed meow, and she shifts the fur ball from one shoulder to the other while the cat meows again. “She hasn’t eaten yet this morning and probably hates me for taking her out of my place,” she says to nobody in particular. A few red scratch lines from her cat have gathered on her neck.

Old White Perve saunters over (there’s no better way to describe his walk even though it makes me feel like shit). He weaves past 1A Incel and kneels close to Weird Girl Beside Me. Then OWP’s smiletwists all creepy as he reaches his hand out to her. I brace myself for unknown reasons as he opens his mouth to speak. “Want me to hold your cat while you take a minute?”

Weird Girl Beside Me must be desperate, because she nods stiffly and hands the cat over. OWP pets the cat gently on the forehead, and the cat nuzzles in return. Trust a guy named Old White Perve to make the rest of us look less than considerate.

Then he blurts, “Such a cute little pussycat.”

And I take it all back.

1A Incel wipes his palms over his arms like the gentle breeze is disturbing him. He scans the crowd, and his eyes narrow on Weird Girl Beside Me... again.

These people. This isn’t a normal fire alarm for a normal building.

Another set of sirens joins the foray. This time it’s a medic, and the inside of my mouth goes dry. I hold my breath as they pull out a gurney, systematically set it up, and wheel it inside as if they’ve done it a thousand times. Which, yeah, I’m sure they have. I stare at the door, willing it to reopen with a still-alive Irene.

“Hey, guys, hope you’re all okay. Please help yourselves to coffee.” I turn to see where this upbeat intrusion is coming from. Diner Loudmouth has appeared behind us with a tray of paper coffee cups and a bag of pastries. He’s got dark, shiny hair spilling out of his backward baseball cap that he’s always wearing with the diner’s name written on it. He’s in a navy apron and fitted T-shirt, and, if I’m being honest, he’sreallywearing it. He might be too chatty for my liking, but he does have good arms. The guy makes his way through our disjointed groups on the lawn, smiling and nodding at Fighting Couple before walking over to Divorced Dad, who plucks one of the coffees from his tray.

“Norm! How are you, buddy?” Diner Loudmouth continues toward 1A Incel. “You doing okay?” He holds up a paper bag. “Mymom made some fresh banana muffins this morning.” He slaps the muffin bag into Incel’s limp hand. “So, is there a fire?”

“I don’t know about that, but somebody destroyed the lobby.” This comes from Weird Girl Beside Me.

“Seriously?” His brows weave together. “Why would someone do that?”

An excellent question, really. I avert my eyes just as the front door pushes open. At once we all direct our gazes to the entrance. The pit in my stomach solidifies as the stretcher appears in the doorway again, guided by a medic on each end of it.

Irene’s sitting up high rather than lying down. Her grey hair isn’t as fluffed as usual, but she otherwise appears alert and normal.

Diner Loudmouth rushes toward them. “Irene! Are you okay?”

“I’m in a stretcher,” she replies, voice weak as they wheel her down the concrete path.

He turns to a medic with a shiny bob. “What happened?”

She angles her bob his way and says, “She had a fall in the stairwell while evacuating. Looks like a simple ankle injury. Her vitals are looking good.” Her face softens. “She’ll be okay.”

Relieved exhales and hums pull through our small group as they load Irene into the back of the ambulance. Everyone waves her off, some offering promises to visit. The ambulance lights turn on, but no sirens play as it pulls around the corner and out of sight.

A moment later the mustached firefighter comes out of the building and calls, “Good morning, folks. I’m Greg Mathers. I thank you for your cooperation and patience as we responded to the alarm. Your homes will be cleared to return to once my colleagues finish resetting the detection devices.”

“So, was there a fire?” Old White Perve asks.

Mathers shakes his head. “Not exactly. It appears that an outlet in the lobby got some water in it and started to smoke. The breakershouldhave tripped, but luckily the fire alarm caught it beforeanything worse happened. Pretty common in these old buildings that haven’t had their electrical systems updated.”

“Water in an outlet? You mean from the vandal?” This comes from Divorced Dad.

This is bad.

Mathers nods. “It looks like quite a bit of water was spilled in the area near the lobby table where all the mess was.”

Holy shit.The vase I broke, it caused all this?

I take a deep breath through my stale mouth. I not only trashed the lobby and wrote a rude memo on the whiteboard, I almost caused a fire and I made Irene go to the hospital. This isbadbad.

Eyes draw around our group suspiciously. I try my best to remain neutral, but I swallow down a gulp.