Evie looks at me like she’s slowly realizing I’m the dumbest guy on the entire planet and then slowly shakes her head. “No, H. That’s what you wanted. You never even bothered to ask what I want.”

She places the half-empty glass bottle on the counter and walks out of the kitchen without another word.

On the way out, I catch a glimpse of Corinne and Marvyn on one of the couches in one of the lounging rooms. She’s next to him and wrapped in a towel, holding her head up with one hand with her legs pulled up under her. She appears to be having a good time until they spot me.

“Leaving already, man?” Marvyn says.

“Yeah, I’m going to bounce. I’m not feeling great,” I say. I’m pretty shook after my conversation with Evie. “Thanks for inviting me, though. Had a great time.”

“Of course, any time.”

Marvyn and I Smile at each other and in another reality, very close to this one, it’s clear we’re both extending middle fingers at each other.

“Hey, hey, Henri, wait!” I hear Corinne behind me a few moments later. I’ve already dressed and packed up my stuff. “You’re leaving without Ming?”

Just then a room down the hallway, one of the many hallways, erupts in shouting and laughter, and I recognize the signature cackle accompanied by the cartoonish sound of Princess Peach knocking someone off the track.

“He’s having a good time. No need to ruin that. I’ll text him later. I just, er, can’t be here right now.”

“Well, give me a second. I’ll be right back,” she says. “Don’t . . . leave without me, okay? I know where you live.”

It’s selfish, but I want to take her up on it, and actually selfishness goes hand-in-hand with the callous sociopath I apparently am.

“You don’t have to leave because I’m leaving,” I say when she comes back.

“I’m very aware of that, thank you very much,” Corinne says, stuffing her signature pink hat back onto her hair, damp from the pool and drying frizzy already. “I’m bored, and I miss my dog. Let’s go.”

Corinne and I stand near the door on an at-capacity train, keeping our balance in silence, eight local stops back to our respective homes a few floors apart. In the corner is a pack of college students. A kid is playing YouTube videos on his phone without headphones, legs spread out over two seats. A worker in heavy work boots crumples up his brown paper bag and slides it under his seat. Brazenly. Or at least the opposite of discreetly.

Everything about the city annoys me at the moment.

A nearby guy looks our way as Corinne takes off her hat, pulls out a towel from her big bag, and begins to furiously rub her still-damp hair.