She ignored me. “You need to go home tonight and write a list of the questions you want to ask him each day. Memorise them, Jordan. So you’re not caught off guard again.”

I sighed. “Good idea. That’s even if he decides to keep talking to me.” Then I had a great idea. “Or you could think of some questions for me!”

“Or not,” she replied. “He’s playing this game to get to know you, Jordan. Not me.”

“Oh my God, you suck. How are we even friends?”

She laughed. “See you tomorrow morning.” And the line went dead in my ear.

I trudged off the bus and into the blustery cold, thankful to get inside the entry hall of our apartment block and out of the wind. I marched up the two flights of stairs, unlocked my door, and dumped my satchel on the couch. Angus was in the kitchen, and something was smelling pretty good.

“Oh hey,” he said, giving me a bright, lazy smile. “How was your bus dude?”

My bus dude. I smiled despite my mood. I’d told Angus about these stupid questions that Hennessy was going to ask me. “He was fine. I, on the other hand, was an idiot.”

He frowned at me. “Did he ask a maths question?”

I snorted. “No, his question was fine. I had to ask him one question in return and completely muffed it.”

Angus stared at me. “Did you ask him a maths question?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t explaining rhetorical questions or seventeenth-century English poetry to him. “Nah. No maths. Whatcha cooking? Smells great.”

He turned back to the stove and stirred a huge pot. “Oh. It’s a stew thing. My mum used to make it and just throw a bunch of stuff in it, like minced meat, veggies, and pasta. I rang her to make sure I got it right. It’s nearly done. Wanna grab two bowls?”

“Absolutely.” I felt better already. Something about Angus was comforting; he was like a brother. And considering my family and I weren’t close, it made me appreciate Angus all the more. Just easy going, well-meaning, and a joy to be around.

We sat in front of the TV, ate his delicious stew thing, and watched Family Feud. Angus nodded toward the television. “You should take notes. Ask him these questions.”

“Name something you’d find in a doctor’s waiting room?” I echoed the question of the game show. “Not sure it’s what I’m going for.”

He nodded and chewed his next mouthful thoughtfully before a slow grin spread across his face. “I know what you can ask him,” he said.

And I’ll be damned, but he had some great suggestions.