Grumbling, I get out of bed.

Mike didn’t leave me time to take a shower, so I put on some deodorant and hope I don’t feel too disgusting by the time the day’s out. I don’t really like my chances.

When Mike said he was here, he meant parked in the garage down the block. It’s a bit early, but there are already people on the sidewalks, nearly all of them talking on phones. I can’t help but wonder how many of them are actually talking to someone and how many are just talking into the air, trying to appear like they’re a lot more important than they actually are.

I might be a little cranky.

I’m not even to the parking garage when I hear Mike’s voice echoing through the structure. He’s arguing with someone about whether parking on the line is “in” or not, and from the sound of it, it doesn’t seem like he’s winning.

I follow the ruckus and eventually find Mike standing at the back of his car, up in the face of the parking attendant, and the problem is easy enough to spot.

Mike didn’t pull into a space and take a little more than his share of the spot; he’s parked behind two cars, blocking them in. He’s trying to advance the argument that because one of his tires is on one of the yellow lines, he’s technically not parked illegally.

“Lei, you’re here,” he calls over the attendant’s shoulder. “Let’s get the fuck out!”

I hurry to the car and get in. The parking attendant is still shouting profanity at Mike through the window, but as soon as Mike starts the car, the man backs off.

“Yeah, I didn’t know how long I was going to hold him there with that bullshit,” Mike laughs. “Your coffee’s in the cup holder on the right. You drink it black, don’t you?”

“I don’t even care right now,” I tell him and pull the lid off the cup.

I pour about half the cup of coffee down my throat. It’s a good thing the coffee is cold.

“So, I stayed up until four in the morning looking at places, and we’ve got some options. There are a few in town and a few out of town. Which would you like to check first?”

“You didn’t make any appointments?”

“Who’s going to take an appointment in the middle of the night?” Mike asks. “It’s Jersey. People there don’t have plans. They’ll be so thrilled that a New Yorker is in town they’ll roll out the red carpet.”

Mike’s one of those New Yorkers. He’s of a special breed that thinks no one outside of the five boroughs has anything important to do. That, mixed with the already sizeable god-complex, and they just might kick us out of the state.

We’re on the road for a long time, longer than I would have thought.

I made sure to look at the clock as we were leaving, and it’s already been almost three hours. There’s no way I can make this kind of commute.

“What kind of brokerage houses do they even have in Jersey?”

“They have brokerage houses everywhere,” I tell him. “The only difference is that in New York, if someone on the floor pisses you off, you can hunt them down before they’ve had a chance to leave the state.”

“So, what’s the deal with you and Dane? I kind of got a vibe from you last night.”

Mike and his stupid vibes.

“Nothing,” I tell him. “Just drive. You know where we’re going, right?”

“You know the guy’s in love with you, right?”

I look over at him, my eyes wide.

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like it wasn’t obvious the way he was carrying on the other night when he walked in on us kissing.”

“You didn’t seem to have any useful theories on it then.”

“Yeah, I had a little time to think about it and the more I did, the more I realized that he had the same look on his face when I found my date for senior prom under the bleachers getting felt up by Bill Rodman.”

“I’m moving,” I tell Mike. “That kind of trumps everything else.”

“You’re not into him, then?” he asks.

I don’t answer, but that’s an answer in itself.

“You like him, too,” he says. “J’accuse!”

“J’accuse is back, huh?” I ask.

“Are you going to tell him?” Mike asks.

“Nope,” I answer. “There’s really nothing to tell. I have a new job in a new city—a new state, even. It doesn’t really matter whether I like him or not.”

“So you do like him?”

“Haven’t we established that?”

“I was talking out my ass,” Mike says. “Could you reach in the glove compartment and grab me the map that’s in there?”

I open the glove compartment, but all I find is a small bag of pot and a half-empty bag of corn chips.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s seriously the second decade of the new millennium. People don’t use fucking paper maps anymore. Could you pass me that bag? I think I’ve got half a joint stuffed in there somewhere.”

“I’m not letting you drive me high,” I tell him and close the glove box.

“Killjoy.”

We’re on the road for another half hour, and Mike seems incapable of talking about anything other than my situation with Dane. I’m really not in the mood.

When we finally take an exit, Mike pulls the phone out of his pocket and hands it to me.

“Pull up the GPS,” he tells me. “I’ve got everything programmed in there.”

I will say this about Mike: he does come prepared. I really wish he hadn’t come prepared with the bag of weed, though.

We follow the automated voice into the first apartment complex and I have the strangest moment. I’ve been in New York City so long that when I think of an apartment complex, I think of one building with only a few parking spaces out front that are always filled, crammed to the rafters with every brand of crazy person there is.

This place, though. It kind of reminds me of home.

It’s not the nicest place in the world, but the grounds are well-kept and I don’t see any crime scene tape, so I’m already excited.

“And now we wait,” Mike says as he pulls into an open parking spot.

“We wait?” I ask. “Why?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, “their office doesn’t open for another hour. So, when are you going to tell Dane that you want him to split you like a tree trunk?”

“Split me like a—you have a problem, Mike, seriously.”

“It’s not like you didn’t already know,” he tells me. “I saw the look on your face when you realized he was there.”

“I was startled,” I rejoin. “You should have seen your face. Your mouth was open so wide I could see your wisdom teeth.”

“Whatever,” he says. “I’m talking about after the initial shock. You looked like you were going to—”

“Can we please talk about something else?” I ask. “Have you had a chance to try what I told you?”

“What? You mean completely changing everything about the way I kiss?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Eh, a little bit. I don’t know if I just got magnificently better at it, or if I’m still as terrible as ever, but we weren’t kissing very long.” He leans over, grinning and nudges my arm, saying, “If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, god.”

We sit there for a while, and I continue to dodge his questions about Dane. When the office finally opens, we go in and talk to the manager. She takes us on a tour and it simply doesn’t compute that I can get a two bedroom apartment with a decent floor plan for under $1,000.

I really haven’t been living in the city that long, but that kind of freaks me out.

I’m ready to sign the papers right now, but Mike steps in before I can commit to anything and tells the woman that we have a few more appointments today, but we’ll let her know.

By the time the day’s done, I can hardly remember what that first apartment looked like.

“So,” Mike says as we’re on our way back to New York and all the insanity those two words juxtaposed entail, “you’re really not going to tell me what you’re going to do.”

“Nope.”

I don’t want to tell him that, with every new apartment we looked at, I was making a mental note of which room would be mine and which one would be Dane’s. I admit it, I like him and I don’t want to leave him, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to share a bedroom with him either.