Page 116 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

“Come here.” Asher pulls on me to sit beside him. When I do, he turns to face me. “I want you to move back in.”

“When?”

“As soon as you can. Tonight, if you’ll agree to it.”

I shake my head.

“Okay, so maybe not tonight, but soon.” He looks around. “I don’t like that you’re living this way. You can barely move around in here. You have no kitchen. You’re sleeping on the floor. Sitting on an inflatable chair.”

“Why do you care?” I ask, looking at him. “Why now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been living this way for weeks. It was even worse than this the first week. I had nothing. No bed. No dresser. You kicked me out with nothing and nowhere to go.”

He sighs. “I know, and I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t done that. But things are different now, and I don’t want you living this way anymore. I really want you to move back.”

“I need to think about it,” I say, gazing down at the ring.

“How much time do you need?” Asher asks.

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to get over the shock that you’re here. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

He rubs my arm. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I didn’t make any plans.”

“Can I take you to dinner? You can pick the place. Anywhere you want to go.”

“I guess we could go to dinner,” I say, mostly because I don’t have any food and would rather go out and do something than listen to Scott and his friends having fun next door.

Asher gets up. “You want to go now or do you want to wait?”

“Just give me a minute to fix my hair.” I take the ring over to my dresser and put it in the top drawer, then I go into the bathroom and take my hair down, brushing it out.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say to Asher, who’s standing by the door. He looks like he can’t wait to get out of my crappy apartment. Growing up with rich parents, he’s always had nice things, including a nice apartment. He’d never live in a place like this. As I think about that, I find myself comparing him to Scott, who has way more money than Asher and yet his apartment isn’t that great. It’s big, and he has nice furniture, but it hasn’t been renovated. It has cracks in the wall and scratched-up floors. Asher wouldn’t live in a place like that. He insisted on getting an apartment that had been renovated to look brand new.

“Hey.” Asher puts his arms around me. “I really did miss you.”

“We should go,” I say, feeling uncomfortable. He shouldn’t be putting his arms around me, or holding my hand, or even touching me.

This is all happening too fast. Asher can’t just show up and expect us to go back to how things were. He’s not the only one who’s changed. I have, too, and I’m not sure this version of me wants to be with Asher.

As we’re about to leave the building, Scott walks in, heading right toward us.

“Hey,” he says to me, glancing at Asher. “You going out?”

“Yeah. We’re going to dinner.”

I’m about to go past him, but stop when I see him extending his hand to Asher.

“I’m Scott. Trina’s neighbor.”

His neighbor.Is that all I am to him now? I guess it is since we’re not friends anymore.

“I’m Asher,” he says, shaking Scott’s hand. “Trina’s…” He looks at me. “Friend.”

This is awkward. I don’t want Scott talking to Asher. I didn’t want them to ever meet, especially after everything I told Scott about Asher. He said if he ever met him, he’d punch him. I hope he didn’t mean that.

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