Page 69 of The Sidekick

Me: Morning. Moving day.

Max: You got the apartment?

Me: Yup. I might be a little excited about it.

I take a picture of Shade glaring at me with my bag over his shoulder and send it quickly.

Me: My help is not so excited.

“That better not be going to Andi,” he snaps and tosses the bag onto the couch.

I don’t know why he’s so grumpy. He’s the one with all the crap to move. I just had to move a car and a duffel bag. I shouldn’t complain, though. He’s the one who called the person I was renting from and told them I wouldn’t be back and refused to pay for the rest of the year. It was supposed to be month to month with the option to leave at any time. Shade said there was no paperwork, so they effed themselves and hung up. One more contact deleted.

Max: Why didn’t you call me to help?

Me: You’ve been really busy. Besides if we’re going to be roomies he’s going to pull his weight.

I tuck the phone back into my pocket with a small smile.

Having Shade move in with me did not sound like a good idea until he told me he needed to get away for a while. My single-bedroom apartment turned into two real quick as I contemplated double homicide.

“Hey,” he waves a hand in front of my face before dropping next to my bag. “Who did you send that to?”

“Max,” I shrug and start making a list of the groceries we will need if we want to eat more than junk food in the future.

“Is he still jealous?” He grins, folding his hands behind his neck as he gets comfortable.

“I don’t get it. We’re practically related at this point. How is everyone blind to that fact?”

“Not everyone is as perceptive as you, Tera.”

“I call bullcrap,” I disagree.

“When are we getting your computer back from Satan?” He changes the subject abruptly. Should I feel bad that he calls him that because I do?

I wince and shrug again, hoping he drops this subject. I wrote that computer off when I ran. Shade is convinced we need to get it back because supposedly Satan has built a shrine around it.

“Do you ever tell people you’re bi?” I ask seriously to derail his current train of thought. I open the empty fridge to note how much room we have there as if I’m not purposely throwing a wrench in whatever speech he has prepared.

“I think we should get it tonight.”

Dang it. “Does anyone know you bat for both teams?”

“I’d say it’s striking while the iron is hot, but it’s been there for a while.” I know he’s baiting me so I’ll get mad, and I am not going to fall for it.

“Do the other guys even know? How deep does this identity crisis go?”

He laughs at me. “The guys know, even if they’re acting like they don’t for some fucked up reason. They’re suddenly convinced that you, and I quote, ‘Permanently flipped my switch to straight.’”

“What idiot said that?” I gag at the thought of Shade in any sexual sense and glare back at him over my shoulder.

“Ira.”

“Of course,” I roll my eyes and slam the fridge shut. Triple homicide? What’s the prison sentence for that in this state? Shade can settle for Brody instead, right?

“No one can picture us as best friends. It’s insulting.”

“I don’t see us as best friends,” I taunt but smile as I say it. He kind of is a friend at this point, whether I like it or not. Or an adopted, yapping little dog.

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