He showered, rinsing a few silverfish down the drain in the process. Damn, he hated those things, but nothing ever seemed to get rid of them. His parents were blaming him for it, but that was nothing new. Basements were damp, and only a full remodel with weatherproofing could keep them out permanently.

As he stepped out of the shower, he contemplated what Leanne had said. Ask yourself what you want. You can do anything… He made a bowl of cereal and ate it on the sofa while scrolling news articles on his phone. Normally, he’d smoke a little weed, take a nap, and play some video games, but after last night, he wished he had something else to do. Like, practically anything. He’d never admit it, but he looked forward to Titus messaging him with some random chore he needed done. Watch Doris for a few days? Absolutely. Spend all day painting his stepsister’s bedroom? No problem.

And when he came home?

“Don’t you have any pride?” his old man had demanded once. “When are you planning to stop leeching off your friends? We thought you’d get sick of living in our basement eventually and pull yourself together. Jesus, I can’t stand looking at you.”

“Good talk.” He’d kept a smile on his face the whole time, knowing his insouciance pissed his father off something fierce.

Wade Montgomery had high standards, and he rarely let a chance slip by to tell Trev how far short he fell. Trev’s mom, Barb, usually tried to keep the peace, but not in a way that included arguing with her husband. She just wanted everyone to be polite, no matter how horrible the underlying sentiment might be.

But here it was, 10:00 a.m. on a weekday morning, and he had nowhere to be. He killed some time texting with Titus. It was cool picturing the guy taking a break at the bakery. Sometimes he imagined being that dedicated to his work—that he’d get up early every day, but he knew himself well enough to realize it was a fantasy, not his thing at all.

Titus: You good?

Trev: Always am.

That’s a fun-sized lie. One he couldn’t quite believe he’d admitted to Leanne, and he’d done it without being chemically enhanced too. She had the magic touch—just enough interest, not enough for it to feel like pressure—and all his depressing secrets came tumbling out, like a closet where someone hastily crammed all their junk.

Titus: Glad to hear it. You didn’t stick around long last night. Just a heads-up…

Trev: Yeah?

Titus: Pretty much everyone knows you two hooked up.

Trev: I had one job and I did it well.

Titus: DUDE.

Trev: It’s not bragging if it’s true.

Titus: I’m out.