‘He’s. Um. He’s nice,’ I say, still flailing. ‘He’s fine, he’ll be good to live with, he’s really…nice.’ I am acutely aware I said ‘nice’ twice but my mind is suddenly empty of all other adjectives.

‘Okay. Yeah, I chatted to him a few times, he does seem nice,’ Harper says, looking disappointed at my dull reply. She was probably hoping for a sign that her grandmother hadn’t stuck her with two boring duds. She gave me an opening, and I gave her nothing.

Harper puts cream cheese on the bagel and hands it to me. I try not to worry that she licked cream cheese off her finger and then that finger touched my bagel, and I wonder if she’ll think it’s rude if I get up for a plate. I settle for holding my hand under it to catch the sesame seeds falling.

Jesse walks into the kitchen, looking much more relaxed and happy without his family, and Harper offers him the other half of my bagel. He seems unbothered about her hands or the lack of plates or spilling sesame seeds.

‘So I thought we’d go over the house rules,’ Harper says.

I sit up straighter. This is the conversation I have been waiting for. I imagine she’s typed them up, laminated them, or, if it were me, put them in a lovely, non-threatening binder. I’m ready for a deep discussion, possibly a friendly debate. I’m ready to make concessions, to compromise, to be flexible and very accommodating, but also to gently steer them in certain directions, towards a higher cleaning standard, a schedule, and to use the shared shopping list app I researched and have already downloaded onto my phone.

Harper starts talking, and I realise there’s no laminated list, nothing written, just verbal rules. That’s fine. I can take notes. Maybe I’ll make the binder later.

The house rules are: no pets; no romance between housemates; and no unnecessary drama, in general.

She stops, and I wait. Is there more? Surely there must be more? What about division of chores, sharing of food, late-night noise, having guests over, parties, TV usage, sleep schedules, paying bills, checking the mail, bin night, using the dryer, fridge space, communal food, internet usage, length of showers, preferred scent of handwash. And these are just my top-level questions. I have subcategories. And subsubcategories. Who is in charge of what? How does this household run, at a granular level? What are we each responsible for doing? There are already two drinking glasses and a knife covered in cream cheese in the kitchen sink and we have no established plan of when they will be cleaned or by who. I am sweating.