Episode 5

My phone bails on me before I even get the chance to murmur good-bye, so I toss it onto the sink counter and reach for my clothes instead. Running is great for clearing your head, and clearing my head is exactly what I want to do right now. I change into my running gear effortlessly—I do it so often I could most likely do it in my sleep—and head back downstairs to enter the kitchen for the first time. I’m greeted by black gloss counters and white gloss cabinet doors and more black gloss flooring. Everything is very, very glossy.

“Wow,” I say. I glance down at the water bottle in my hand and then to the spotless sink by the window. I’m almost terrified to use it.

“Like it?” Dad asks, and it’s only then that I realize he’s even in the room. He keeps appearing out of nowhere as though he’s following my every move.

“Was it installed yesterday or something?”

He chuckles, shakes his head at me, and then walks over to flick on the faucet. “Here. Krish’s waiting for you out front. The kid’s stretching.”

I shuffle around the island to awkwardly fill my bottle until it overflows, and then I swivel on the lid and get the hell out of there before my dad has a chance to say anything more. I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive eight weeks with him.

Krish is shuttling up and down the sidewalk when I finally head outside to meet him. He stops and grins. “Just warming up,” he says.

“Can I join you?” When he nods, I take a quick sip of my water and then step parallel to him, and we slowly jog around the lawn a couple times. And then we set off, making our way through the beautiful neighborhood at a comfortable speed.It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve run without music as my companion, but only because I figure it would be rude to completely block Krish out. We engage in brief conversation and the occasional “Let’s slow down,” and that’s about it. But I don’t mind. The sun is beating down on us, almost as though its rays have grown stronger over the past hour, and the streets here really are lovely, with their residents walking dogs or cycling or pushing strollers. Perhaps I will fall in love with this city after all.

“Do you hate your dad?” Krish asks out of nowhere as we retrace our route back toward the house, and it’s so sudden that I almost trip over my own feet.

“What?” is the only response that finds its way to my lips. I collect my thoughts and settle my eyes on the sidewalk ahead of me. “It’s complicated.”

“I like him,” Krish says, or pants. I’m surprised he’s still keeping up with me.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but it seems kinda awkward between you and him.”

“Yeah,” I say, gnawing at my lip while I try to figure out a way to change the subject. “Hey, how cool is that house over there?”

Krish completely ignores me. “Why is it awkward?”

“Because he sucks,” I finally answer. This is true: my dad does suck. “He sucks for walking out. He sucks for not calling. He sucks because he sucks.”

“I get it.”

Our conversation wraps up there, and we jog back to the house, stretching on the lawn before heading inside to shower.Dad doesn’t forget to remind us about the barbecue in two hours’ time. Krish and I split up and go into our own rooms.

By this point, I feel sweaty and gross, so after plugging my phone in to charge, the first thing I do is throw my body into the sparkling shower. The water feels amazing, and I stay in there for thirty minutes, spending most of the time simply sitting down and basking in the steam. Showers back home were never this good.

I end up taking the remaining hour and a half to get ready. If I could, I’d turn up on the patio in sweats. But I don’t think that would go down well with Annie, so I rummage through my suitcase and pull out a pair of skinny pants and a blazer. Smart casual. That should do.

I get dressed, dry my hair, curl it into loose waves, and then apply a fresh layer of makeup. I’m just spraying some body spray when I inhale the waft of…well, barbecues. It must be nearing seven.

I head downstairs, following the scent into the kitchen. The two glass patio doors are slid open, and I realize the get-together is already in full swing. So, correction, it must be after seven. There’s music playing from speakers somewhere, groups of adults milling around the yard, and everything else that makes social gatherings awful. I spy Chris in the pool with some kids around his age. I also spot Dad flipping burgers on the barbecue over in the corner while attempting to carry out a dance move from the ’80s. He looks lame as hell.

“Alisha!” a voice calls. When I turn around, I’m irritated to discover that it belongs to Annie. “Get out here!”

Maybe if I fake a seizure I’ll get to escape back to my room, or better yet, home. “Sorry I’m a little late. I wasn’t checking the time.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” says Annie. She pushes her sunglasses up to the top of her head as she steps inside for a moment to pull me out onto the grass. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Well, actually I—”

“These are our neighbors from across the street,” she interrupts, nodding toward a middle-aged couple standing in front of us. “Dawn and Philip.”

“It’s great to meet you, Alisha,” Dawn says. It’s clear either my dad or Annie or both of them have been informing everyone that I’m here. Philip offers me a half smile.

“You too,” I reply. I’m not sure what else there is to say. Tell me your life story? What are your plans for the future, Dawn and Philip? I smile instead.

“Our daughter should be coming by too,” Dawn continues, which immediately makes me feel unsettled. “She’ll keep you company.”

“Oh, cool,” I say. My eyes drift away from the pair. Clicking with other girls has never been one of my strong points. Girls are terrifying. And meeting new ones is even worse.

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