Welcome to Envy Park by Mina V. Esguerra

knew you were going to say
that," Allie said.
    "Are you going to stay
strong?"
    "You’ll find out, I guess. I miss
you, Moi. And I can’t keep this on for too long."
    "Good luck, Allie."
    The phone was warm against my face when the call
ended, and I was glad to be able to put it down.
    "Crisis averted?" Ethan
asked.
    "Maybe not," I said. "Allie over
there? She has a thing for attention and recognition. She will work
for low pay if you give her an award or something. She hates it
when she gets bypassed for things. And when a guy who has already
broken her heart starts texting again, she can’t help but want more
of it." As a friend, I learned that all she needed was for me to
listen when she was like this, and true enough, living with her
became so much easier.
    "Do you do this? Figure out
people’s ‘things’?"
    So I probably revealed more than I
should have. It could come off as creepy, out of context. "Only if
I have to."
    "Have you figured me out
already?"
    I shook my head. "Not enough
information."
    Ethan did the same. "I just
realized that I can’t do what you’ve done. Live with strangers.
This is too much interaction for me."
    "I don’t know, I think you’re
doing fine so far." I said that without thinking much about it,
thinking that Ethan was holding on to his loner badge too tightly
as a matter of pride. Instinctively I wanted to make him feel that
he didn’t need to.
    But wait, that was me trying to figure him out.
    He was right though, it could get exhausting, and my
own day’s failure crept back up again. The meat, and conversation,
and Allie diversion hadn’t taken it away.
     
    -/\/\/\-
     
    When Ethan and I got back to Tower 3 from post-gym
dinner, we'd ride the elevator together. He would always go in on
my right side, and then he'd be on my left when we turned around to
watch the floors light up. When it came up to the ninth floor, he
would turn slightly to his right, toward me, and give a slight,
polite nod. Then he would step out onto his floor.
    So after kebabs, same thing. My mind was busy, I had
to admit, still going over the interview and the many other things
I could have said. Should have said. Still kicking myself over the
inability to articulate my plan in a way that other people could
understand. Was it me? Or everyone else? Maybe it was me.
    I almost missed it when the
elevator reached the ninth floor—and Ethan didn't step out. I
didn't catch if he looked at me, or nodded, or did anything else.
The next thing I knew, the doors were closing, and the steel box
slid up to tenth, and he was still inside.
    Hmm.
    Are you lost? Do you need directions? Do you need to
borrow something?
    Things I could have said, should have said maybe,
but was lost in the cloud in my head. Instead, I just started
walking. Turned right into the hallway that led to 10J. And he fell
into step beside me.
    The hallway wasn't very long. But I felt each
step.
    I'll say something when we get to
the door , I told myself. Like, Do you want to come in?
    I pushed my key into the lock and then turned to
him, about to say whatever, but it was a sentence that immediately
disintegrated. He was so close. Just there. I was still trying to
get the words back but his lips were already on mine.
    I was like, screw words. So I kissed him.
    It had been a while, for me. I
didn't have time to think about this, didn't plan if I should play
it coy, mysterious, or casual. I just—I kissed him. I went for it.
Like a girl who really wanted to be kissed.
    And what that led to was my least coordinated kiss
ever, a jumble of lips and intentions, each one half a beat out of
sync. I wanted to laugh. It was a little funny.
    I thought he was about to do just that when he
pulled back. Make a joke about this, comment about kebab
breath.
    But instead he paused, and his hands came up to
cradle my face.
    "Just let it happen," he said,
whispered almost.
    Our lips touched again, whisper-light first. A
gentle sweep of his tongue and my lips parted, and