Page 24 of Take Care, Taylor

I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be around people who took every comma, semicolon, and award like it was life or death—and every conversation, no matter the topic, always circled back to prose.

People who were just like my parents.

“Would you like that, Fraudrey Parker?” he asked. “Hmmm?”

“I would like you to stop blocking the door,” I said instead.

“I bet you would like that very much, Fraudrey Parker.” He hissed. “Fraudreyyy!”

His words shouldn’t sting—he knew nothing about me or the guy who’d uttered that same cadence before—but they did.

They always did.

“Okay, fuck you.” I pushed past him and made my way inside.

I took the emergency stairwell up to my floor, and when I stepped inside the suite, my luggage was neatly pushed against the wall, and Taylor was leaning back on the couch, staring at his phone.

I cleared my throat, and he immediately looked up.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words fell.

His lips parted, too, but the room remained silent.

The tension from earlier was still here, still palpable, laced with an awkwardness we couldn’t deny.

The living room walls slowly closed in as the seconds passed, bringing him closer to me.

Still silent, he stood to his feet and walked toward me.

“So,” he said, finding his voice first, “did you get the office to assign you another roommate?”

“That’s not what I was doing.”

“Whatwereyou doing?”

“None of your business.”

He arched a brow.

“But speaking of this roommate situation, I think it’s best if we set some boundaries for the next few months and commit to being cordial.”

“I don’t think you know what the word ‘cordial’ means, Audrey.”

“Of course I do.” I hated that this man was even more attractive up close—that his boyish charm from our childhood had intensified to impossible levels I couldn’t deny.

“Congratulations on getting into the Postscript Program,” he said. “I’ll do my best to be cordial with you.”

I nodded, searching for something to compliment him on as well.

“Your girlfriend Stacey seems…” I couldn’t finish that sentence becauseoddandditzy as hellwere all that came to mind.

“Congratulations on getting drafted in the first round,” I said instead.

“Did you actually watch the draft?”

“I saw it on the news the next day.” I shrugged. “I was secretly rooting for you to fail and goundrafted because of your ego.”

“You should’ve known that wasn’t happening.”