Chapter Nine

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FRIDAY 

The apartment was filled with people. A stern looking woman directed everyone like she was orchestrating a symphony. It looked like a fabric store was regurgitated in the living room, spewing rolls of color everywhere. Bags of sand were lined against the walls. There was no doubt that in the face of gale force winds, their apartment was going nowhere. Glass vases as big as the coffee table were wrapped in bubble wrap waiting to be filled and the chatter was giving him a headache.

“And you thought adopting a pet was over the top,” he muttered to Wes.  

Wes was thumbing through his iPod in search of the perfect song to play for Rowyn, “shh,” he said, like picking a song required the utmost concentration.  

“I feel like we should be painting our nails and talking about TV shows.”

Wes looked up, unimpressed with his joke. “Are you about done? Can you lose the wisecracks and make yourself useful?”

Keaton gestured around, “and do what? Lead the sand filling brigade? Unwrap the glass?”

The severe looking woman piped up, “Don’t touch the vases.”

“Sophie wouldn’t like this kind of thing,” he said more to himself than to Wes. “Her sister would,” he said, “in a far more shallow way than Rowyn.” He added the last part for good measure, not wanting to compare a girl as sweet as the neighbor with one as cold as Taylor.

“They’re that different, huh?”

“Yeah.  She’s kind of relentless. Trying to make me notice her, even though I’m with her sister.”

“What? That’s messed up.”  

“Right? The only thing it does is make me want Sophie more.”

“Does Sophie know?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean her sister showed up while we were surfing the other day but aside from that it’s these little comments she tosses out when Sophie’s not around.”

“Ouch. Harsh.”

“I don’t know if I should tell her.”

Wes quirked a brow. “Sophie?”

“Yeah?”

“Why on earth would you want to do that?”

“Because.”

Wes set the iPod down. “Listen bro, if you have no intention of following through with whatever the sister is hoping for, what is the point? For starters, it will cause a rift between them and make your girl feel bad. No need to do that.”

“True.” Wes’s argument was valid.

A pounding on the door halted the conversation. Wes’s eyes widened and he froze. “Everyone keep it down,” he said, before opening the door a sliver.

Rowyn’s voice came from the hallway and Keaton waited anxiously, hoping Wes could curb the surprise. “Wes,” she said, “You’re never going to believe it.”

“What am I never going to believe?” he asked, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

As soon as he did that, the people went back to work. One of the fabric transporters swung a ream around, knocking over a lamp, that tumbled to the ground and shattered.

“Shhh!” Keaton grabbed a broom and dustpan and was sweeping up the evidence when Wes came back through the door, a worried look on his face.

“What happened, bro? That almost got me busted.”

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