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“Oh!” I was fully expecting to wait in the car, peering up at the ed to hi the actual inside of his apart backflips inside ht this second Another part of me never wants to tell her at all “Um, okay”
The hallway inside the house is overwarressive pinks and fuchsias A dusty chandelier casts diht across his face
“Watch yourself,” he says as I follow hi at a place where theup off the tread “My oing to break her leg or get lead poisoning or sos for these renovated, dorle day”
“Aw,” I say An ie has started to form in my head of Bex’s parents: stern and land WASPs we read about in The Wapshot Chronicle at the beginning of the year I feel like he’s probably lonely in a fareat”
As pro on the table in Bex’s tiny foyer He hands it over, and I tuck it intos his s out of his jacket
“You hungry?” he asks, putting a hand ontoward the narrow kitchen “I’o”
I shakea tiny breath out as I hear hi, but I can’t stop looking around, wanting to commit all of it to memory: the worn leather sofa and the antique desk streith papers, the shelves and shelves of books He’s got actual art on his walls—real paintings by actual artists, nothing like the scrolly Live Laugh Love canvaseson every available surface A wine crate full of records sits next to a turntable by the
I creep farther into the living roo it over: Nina Sihtly fuzzy around the corners fro about her, but I le her so I can drop her into conversation later on
“Whatcha looking at?” Bex asks, co over my shoulder, a bottle of flavored fizzy water in one hand His whole house sht be incense; there are more books stacked in the fireplace, a basket of New Yorkers overflowing on the hearth
I hold up the record, turning to face him “Do you actually listen to these?” I ask
Bex smirks “Yeah, smarty-pants,” he says “Sound quality is way better than Spotify or whatever”
“Is that true?” I ask “Or is it just, like, what they tell you at Urban Outfitters to make you spend more money?”
Bex’s eyes widen “I don’t get h, reaching out and taking the albuently from my hand
“Oh no?” I ask, thrilled and a tiny bit horrified by his language
Bex grins, a flash of perfectly straight teeth “No,” he says, lacing his fingers through mine