Three Years with the Rat Read Online Free PDF Page B

around?”
    I shrugged. “Thought I might find a place here, work, think about what the fuck I’m doing with my life.”
    Her grin was wide now. She stepped forward as if she was going to hug me. Then she hammered my shoulder with her fist. She stung the bone and I winced.
    “That’s great!” she said. “I’m glad your little bullshit Kerouac phase is over.”
    “Don’t give me too much credit,” I told her. “You at least need aspirations to have a phase.”
    She showed me around the apartment, described her plans for the space, how she would paint, where the furniture would go. John and the friends steadily came up and down the building’s stairs and stacked boxes in the living room. Waves of tiredness came over me and passed. Grace looked a little older but happy enough.
    “What are you going to do with the second bedroom?” I asked her. After my dorm life, it was hard to imagine what people would do with so much room.
    “We’ve got some ideas,” she said.
    Before she could say more, there was a crash on the stairs. Grace flinched and ran to the front door.
    “Jesus Christ, be careful with that!” she shouted down the stairs.
    I came up behind her and looked over her shoulder. Steve and Lee had been carrying an enormous mirror with a comforter wrapped around it. Steve was at the top of the steps and fumbling to get a grip on the blanket. He looked confused and apologetic. And while Lee’s face was half-hidden behind the mirror, she was clearly irritated with my sister’s outburst.
    “Just lost my grip on it,” Steve said. “Sorry.”
    “Don’t apologize,” Grace backpedalled. “You were only helping.”
    “What the hell’s the hold-up?” Brian cackled from the bottom of the stairs.
    They took the mirror into the second bedroom and set it in the corner. Grace removed the blanket and searched around the frame for damage. There was a small crack along the bottom edge of the frame but the glass was intact.
    “I didn’t mean to snap at you, Steve,” she said. She bit at her thumb again.
    Lee gave a small nod.
    Brian popped his head into the door frame and poked a thumb in the direction of the living room. “Trouble’s here.”
    A woman’s voice, unfamiliar and deep, said, “Shut up, Brian. Sorry I’m late, Grace.”
    Everyone else went to greet the new friend. I was tired so I stayed where I was, crouched near the mirror. In its reflection my eyes were ringed with red and my clean shave was almost gone. I yawned, scratched the back of my head, slapped my cheeks. I was fading.
    “I hear you’re the deadbeat brother,” the new voice said.
    And that was how I met Nicole: curled up near the mirror while she stood in the doorway. She was long, slender, and nearly as tall as me. Her hair was naturally bright orange, a colour I would never call
red
, and it framed the smooth skin of her cheekbones. She wore a high-necked sleeveless navy dress that stopped above her lovely knees and hugged her hips and waist. The belt of her dress and her shoes were bright white and she wore a white kerchief around her neck. Her eyes, hazel-coloured and almond-shaped, were narrowed and amused. She wore red lipstick and only a hint of a smile.
    Brian poked his head into the door frame and said, “Trouble, meet Danger.”
    —
    I don’t remember much of unpacking the rest of the van, only that it was uninteresting work.
    I vaguely remember dinner at one of the sushi restaurants below, seven of us piled into a space meant for four. My cheeks burned from the hot sake and from Nicole’s bare leg pressed against mine. There was laughter and enthusiastic discussion about bands I’d never heard of. There was Nicole’s hushed voice in my ear and my best attempt at charming replies. There was John’s calm face and Grace’s careful scrutiny as she watched Nicole and me. At some point, I learned that Grace and Lee and Nicole had all been roommatesuntil a year or so ago, when Nicole moved out. Lee was the last one