Page 23 of Something Like Hail

“Trying to touch my boobs,”Edith amended.

“I won’t try that, or drinkin the room, I swear.”

Edith nodded. “I’ll get it ready for you.There’s still a curfew, but if you’re late, call me.”

Noah’s smile faltered. “Thanks, but ifyou’re not working, I don’t want to—”

“Then you call Peteinstead.”

“Pete?”

Edith pointed in the direction they hadcome. “My colleague.”

The Bouncer? His name was Pete? Noah wouldhave expected it to be Bruno or Dirk or somethingtougher-sounding.

Edith’s expression remained earnest.“Okay?”

Noah nodded. “Okay.”

She fussed over him more by making sure hehad eaten. Noah was always up for more food, so after downing someleftovers she scrounged for him, he went to his locker, got freshclothing, and took a shower. He decided another load of laundry wasin order, just to make sure his work uniforms—as he was starting toconsider them—were both as fresh as could be. Tonight he might beslow dancing with Doug, or cuddling with him, or slapping him inthe face with a boiled hotdog while calling him Daddy. Lord onlyknew what he was in for, but Noah was determined to be presentableregardless.

“There you are!” Edithappeared in the laundry area just as he was folding his last shirt.“Are you ready for your room?”

“Yeah!”

Noah followed her to a stairwell that henormally ignored. Up the stairs were staff areas, storage units,and the doors to twenty rooms. He felt taller than usual as shewalked him down the hall to number seven. A lucky number! Edithopened the door, presenting it to him and murmuring apologies abouthow it wasn’t much.

Noah disagreed. The room had enough spacefor a twin-size bed, a small table with a chair, a narrow dresser,and a safe. Edith rattled off the rules: Nobody else was allowed inthe room. No drinking or drugs. The room had to be cleaned once aweek and open for inspection.

Noah eagerly agreed to all of this. Aprivate room! He couldn’t exactly invite anyone over and probablywouldn’t even if allowed, but it felt good to have his ownspace.

Edith helped him set a new combination forthe safe, which was small but would keep his wallet and othervaluables secure. Then she handed him a key. And a letter.

“You received mail whileyou were gone.”

“Oh.” He took it from her,not needing to glance at the return address. Only one person everwrote him. “Thanks,” he said. “For everything.”

“You are welcome.” Shehovered in the doorway. Did she want a hug? Noah was about to offerone when Edith shook her head and turned. “I’ll let you getsettled.”

“Thank you,” he saidagain.

She closed the door behind her. Noah spun toexamine the room, a grin plastered on his face. Was he stillhomeless? A temporary room in a homeless shelter probably didn’tcount for much, but it felt awesome anyway. He went to the window.The view was a brick wall and an alley below. At least he could getfresh air if he craved it. Noah cracked open the window, then setthe letter on the table. He went downstairs for his clothes,stuffing them in the dresser when he returned. He relocated hispossessions from the locker too. Moving day!

He laughed to himself. Other people had torent a truck. He only needed two arms and fifteen minutes to getthe job done. Once he was finished, he kicked off his shoes, sat onthe bed, and let himself bask in the feeling of security. Andprivacy! Such a thing had become incredibly rare. Normally he waseither sitting in a library surrounded by others, or sleeping in alarge crowded room, or out on the streets. The fear of wearing outhis welcome, or the possibility of being forced to leave, alwayshung over his head. Not here. He could sit in this room fortwenty-four hours and do nothing, and nobody would complain. Thenagain, he still had to eat and use the restroom. His new roomdidn’t have a private bathroom. He would need to use the communalone downstairs.

This was definitely a step up regardless,and thanks to the two new names in his phone, he no longer had toworry about getting shut out at night. The only downside was thathe had less of an excuse to crash on Harold’s couch. Noah closedhis eyes, remembering how that lap had felt as a pillow. Then heimagined Harold sharing this bed while cuddled up against him.Wouldn’t that be nice?

Noah let himself enjoy the fantasy. It hadbeen way too long since someone special was in his life. He openedhis eyes and turned his head, looking to the letter on the table.Then he sighed, sat up, and reached for it. He felt no suspense ashe opened the envelope. The letters were all the same these days.Needy, complaining, affectionate… His eyes widened as he reachedthe bottom.

Maybe I should just kill myself. Seriously.What’s the point? I’m never going to see you again, am I?

Noah swallowed, feeling guilty. Then again,it’s not like he could just walk there. Last time he had hitchhikedand— Ugh! Excuses. That’s all they were. Noah had money now. Maybehe could use it to travel to Gatesville. No buses went there. Hehad looked into that before, but now that he had money…

He grabbed his phone,sending a quick text to Harold.Have youever rented a car?

The response came a fewminutes later.Yeah! When mine was in theshop. Why?

Would I need a credit card?