Page 47 of The Friend Scheme
“Cool.”
I go inside.
And damn.
Inside is a beautiful foyer, brightly lit with natural light. The floors are polished timber. Art hangs on the off-white walls, and there’s a Greek-looking sculpture in the corner. It’s the kind that’s missing arms for some reason.
He walks to the next room. It’s an open area, a combination of a kitchen, living room, and dining room. It’s like mine, but bigger and brighter. The kitchen island is made of speckled white stone. At the far end, there’s a huge TV in front of two white leather couches. The whole place is immaculate and smells so nice. It’s a warm sort of smell, like vanilla.
Outside, there’s the biggest infinity pool I’ve ever seen. A bunch of inflatable pool toys are floating on the surface, including a unicorn with a rainbow mane. They are at odds with the whole sleek, expensive look of the rest of the place, but I like it. It’s surrounded by white sandstone, and there are wooden deck chairs under a blue umbrella.
So he’s clearly mega rich.
Seriously, who is he?
His family must have a side gig going. I want to ask what it is, but we have the deal, and I know he’ll just remind me of that if I ask.
Jason takes me up a flight of stairs. We walk down a hall with white walls. The whole place is so perfect it almost doesn’t look lived in. The first room we pass is obviously a girl’s bedroom. It’s empty. The blankets on the single bed are pale pink, and a plasticMinecraftsword is lying on the floor. Two huge white bookshelves are built into the back wall, arched over the bed frame. They’re crammed with books, which makes me smile.
So he has a little sister. That’s cool.
I bet they’re really close. He seems like the sort of guy who’d be close with his siblings. Like, the best big brother ever.
Jason closes her door.
I wonder where she is, if their parents are at a wine tasting.
We walk down the hall and reach another door.
“And this,” he says with a proud flourish of his hands, “is my room.”
Oh my God. It’s the cleanest boy’s bedroom I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve been in many. But still. It feels unnaturally perfect. Everything is expertly organized. And it’s so masculine. There are framed posters of all-star baseball players on the walls, some of which are signed. He even has a beanbag that looks like a baseball and a whole shelf devoted to trophies. It’s seriously crammed full of them.
There’s no gaming stuff, like I was expecting. I thought his room would be like mine, but for games instead of movies.
“What do you think?” he asks as he shifts from one foot to the other.
“I like it.” I look around. “It feels way more adult than mine. I like it.”
Seriously. He has a king bed with dark gray sheets and navy pillows. It’s the kind of bed I imagine an investment banker sleeping in.
“Yeah, but your room feels like yours. This could be anyone’s. I had no say in it.”
Okay. So his parents are controlling, like my dad.
I glance around. He does have a point about it being anyone’s room, as besides the baseball stuff, it looks a little generic. Nice, but maybe a little lacking in personality.
Which sucks, because I really like Jason’s personality.
“Well,” I say. “You have signed posters, not everyone has that.”
“I guess.”
He crosses his arms. “So, you wanna playSmash Bros.?”
“Always.”
He chuckles, and kicks the beanbag over so it’s at the foot of the bed. Attached to his TV is the newest PlayStation, and the newest Nintendo console. He has a bunch of games, and I recognize most of them. I’ve played, and loved, most of the ones he has, and the others I’ve been meaning to play at some point, includingHorizon Zero Dawn.
