Chapter 2

The next day, when I got back from work, two cardboard boxes were piled right outside my room door.

They were packed with all my stuff.

A few lesson plans, a desk lamp, and the plush teddy bear Asher had given me last year.

One of the bear's ears was sticking out of the box, covered in dust.

I stood in the hallway and stared at it for a few seconds.

Jessica poked her head out of the kitchen.

"Vivian, you're finally back.

"We were clearing some space for Sloane and realized the storage closet wasn't big enough, so we just moved your loose things out first."

Sloane hurried over, looking apologetic.

"Vivian, I didn't want them to touch your stuff, but Asher said you didn't have much anyway, and it makes no difference whether it’s kept inside the room or outside."

Asher walked out carrying a plate of food, a frown pulling at his brows.

"What do you mean, touching your stuff? We all live in this apartment together, so obviously whoever needs the space more gets to use it first."

I turned to look at him.

"Then why didn't you move your sneakers?"

The entryway shoe rack was stacked two rows high, completely full of his shoes. A bunch of them were brand new and still had the tags on, never worn once.

Asher choked on his words, caught completely off guard.

Damon sat on the couch and tried to play peacemaker.

"All your stuff is small junk, super easy to pack up. Sloane's art canvas is fragile and can't have weight on it, and she literally has nowhere else to put it.

"Stop being so anal about every little thing. Are we a family or what?"

I bent down and scooped up a cardboard box.

"Right, a family."

Probably because I was way too calm about the whole thing, Asher looked even more unsettled.

He followed me into my room, leaning against the doorframe to watch me pack.

"Seriously not mad?"

"Not at all."

"Good."

He reached out like he wanted to ruffle my hair, but I sidestepped out of reach. His hand froze in mid-air.

"Vivian, what’s actually going on with you lately?"

I shoved the plush bear down to the very bottom of the closet.

"Nothing. Just tired."

Asher opened his mouth to say something else, but Sloane shouted from the living room.

"Asher, where did you put my stomach medicine?"

He spun around instantly.

"Are you feeling sick again?"

He pulled the door shut behind him without a second thought.

Through the door, I could hear him telling Damon to boil some water, asking Jessica to grab a heating pad, and demanding to know if Sloane had skipped lunch.

The whole place turned into a frantic circus.

Last month, when I had a severe case of food poisoning, my stomach hurt so bad in the middle of the night that I couldn't even stand up straight.

I called Asher three times.

He was in the middle of a video game and complained that I was being annoying.

In the end, the security guard from the after-school center was the one who drove me to the ER on his electric scooter.

The next day, Asher showed up with breakfast and told me, "You're so tough, I honestly didn't think it was a big deal."

It turned out my ability to handle things on my own wasn't a good trait. It was just their built-in excuse to shrug and ignore me with a clear conscience.

I finished taping up my boxes, and right on cue, Isabelle’s call came through.

She warned me that the situation at the new center wasn't great.

The previous director had quit out of nowhere, the parents were furious, and half the teachers had already walked out.

"Vivian, I'm going to be straight with you.

"You aren't going down there to relax. You're going there to put out fires."

I looked out the door at the group of people fussing over Sloane.

"It's fine. I can handle it."

Isabelle went quiet for a second.

"Does your boyfriend even know you're transferring to the South Center?"

"It's my career. I don't need his permission."

I hung up the phone and opened my laptop to fill out the transfer request form.

Out in the living room, Sloane's stomachache had magically vanished.

She kept whining about craving those burgers from the burger truck across town. Without missing a beat, Asher grabbed his car keys.

Jessica reminded him that the round-trip drive took over an hour.

Asher just laughed.

"She feels awful, so if she wants them, I'm going to go get them."

As he walked past my room, he paused to look inside.

"Do you want anything? I can grab it while I'm out."

Before I could say a word, Sloane chimed in with a sweet, apologetic smile.

"Wait, doesn't Vivian hate greasy stuff?"

Asher hit his forehead with his hand.

"Right, almost forgot."

He turned and walked out the front door.

I looked down at the transfer request form glowing on my screen.

The person who actually loved greasy stuff wasn't Sloane.

It was me.

The very first time Sloane came over to the apartment, she mentioned how jealous she was that I could eat whatever I wanted and never gain weight. Right after that, she started claiming she loved greasy food too.

From then on, whenever they bought snacks, they always made sure to get them for her.

Eventually, I just became the person who didn't eat greasy food.

I clicked submit.

A notification popped up on the screen: [Your transfer request has been approved. Please report to your new location by next Monday.]

Next Monday.

Six days left.

More than enough time to clear every last trace of myself out of this apartment.

It was more than enough time for them to get used to not having to take care of me anymore.