Inside, we stand waiting for our two caramel macchiatos, and Aiden shoots me an exasperated look from the corners of his eyes.

“Babe?” he asks, accusatory.

“Oh, come on, I’m allowed to have a little fun. Especially after your car-sass. How’d you like the place? Should we take it?”

“Stop.” The barista slides our drinks out towards us, and we gather them before we head back out into the rain. “And no. I’m not going to take it.”

“Yeah, you know what, if petite is what you’re going for, I bet we could find an even smaller apartment for you to take. We’d have to look really hard, though.”

“It looked a lot bigger than that in the pictures.”

“So what was the final straw?” I ask, as we approach the car. “The chemical smell from the convenient dry cleaner’s or the stove with only one burner?”

Aiden sighs at me from the other side of the car, but pauses. He nods at something, and I turn to look: the bar right across the street.

“I don’t think it would be a very good idea for me to live in such close proximity to that,” he says, and drops into the car. It takes me a moment to follow what he means by this. When I get there, I’m pretty fucking embarrassed, and I have to take a second to compose myself before I join him.

“Dude, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been fucking around. I had no idea…”

“It’s fine. No one here really knows.”

The rain taps against the windshield. I glance over and accidentally meet Aiden’s eyes. I’m trying to think what it’s appropriate for me to ask.

“How long has that been an issue?” I venture.

“Started in high school. If you mean when did I accept it was a problem, a lot more recently.”

I’m a little stunned. I had no idea, but I guess it does explain a few things, now that I’m thinking back.

“Oh.” I can hear the softness in my voice, and I can’t help it, I’m a little shook. “So… you’re moving back here?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, well…” I chew my lip, wondering if I’m about to regret this. “I actually know of an available place. It’s like the same price. It’s not in this area, though, is that okay?”

“Sure. I’ll look at anything. I definitely don’t want to keep - uh, imposing on my aunt.”

“Right. I’m sure she’s dying to get rid of you.”

“Exactly.”

I smile in spite of myself as I put the car into gear. We don’t talk much on the ride over, but this time I offer my phone to Aiden, who peruses my most recent playlists and makes a surprisingly good song choice. When we roll up before our destination, he peers out of the window appraisingly.

“I know this place.” He follows my lead and gets out of the car. It’s a house made of ash-grey wood, with a high gable roof. Bright white trim. A neat little gravel pathway aiming at the front door. Clumps of bushes and tangled plants grow together in the front yard; shivering under the droplets of rain. The door opens, and Kent leans out, eyeing my car suspiciously.

“Excuse me, sir, you can't park here,” he calls, in his sternest voice.

“What are you gonna do about it?” I shout back, coming to stand next to Aiden on the sidewalk.

“You’ve done it now,” Kent returns, “I’ve called the law on you.”

A face appears at his knee, and a little cowboy stalks out onto the porch, her hair braided and tied back in a knot, her nerf gun in her hand, her sheriff’s badge pinned to her checkered shirt. The cowboy hat is set low over her eyes.

“Oh, no,” I cry out, and quickly nudge the bemused Aiden in the ribs. “We’re done for, that’s Sheriff Ellen!”

On the porch, Sheriff Ellen raises her nerf gun. “Begone, crooks!”

“Dive for cover!” I seize Aiden by the wrist and yank him back behind the car, just as the first volley of nerfs smacks into the side of my long-suffering vehicle. “Sheriff Ellen! We surrender! It was all a misunderstanding, my friend here is the town fool, and he thought this was an area for strangers to park in! Don’t punish him for his brainlessness!”

The thunk of the nerf bullets comes to a stop.

“Okay, but I’m taking you into the station!” she calls back.

A few minutes later, we’re seated at Kent’s square dining table. Ellen deemed us officially in jail and handcuffed my left wrist to Aiden’s right before she wandered off to go round up new outlaws.

“Funny, this is my actual worst nightmare,” Aiden tells me, pointing at the plastic purple handcuffs binding us together. “Kent, can I borrow your sturdiest knife?”

“Do not break those handcuffs, I’m not buying another pair,” sighs Kent, sinking down into one of the available leather dining chairs, three cups of steaming coffee in his hands. He distributes them out to us and adds some sugar to his own.

“So, how long has the sheriff thing been going on?” Aiden asks, awkwardly stirring his coffee with his left hand.

“Since Halloween.” Kent doesn’t sound exasperated, so much as tired. “She won’t take the outfit off. I basically have to do laundry every day just because of that one costume.” He shrugs helplessly. “Last time it was a mad scientist situation, though, so this is still an upgrade. The things I was finding in my own fridge.” He shudders. “I’m glad she’s too little to take chemistry yet.”

“How old is she?” Aiden asks.

“Nine.” Kent sets down his coffee cup. “She wasn’t even born yet last time you were in town, Aiden.”

“It’s been a long time,” Aiden agrees, looking suddenly distant.

“That’s actually why we’re here,” I cut in, forgetting immediately about the handcuffs and accidentally dragging Aiden into my gestures. “Aiden just moved back to town, he’s looking for a place to live. I thought about the, you know.” I nod at the back of the house, and Kent pauses.

“Oh. Yes.”

“Is it still open?'' I ask, knowing full well that Kent was whining to me about the difficulty of finding a good tenant just last week.

“Sure. Let’s pay it a visit, then.”

~~~~

Kent leads, while Aiden and I - still very much held together by plastic children’s handcuffs - follow after. He leads us into the back yard and points up at the set of stairs that lead up towards the roof area. “Doesn’t look like there’s really a way to get inside, does it?” He nods towards the stairs. “You all can go first. Oh, hang on - there’s a trick to the handcuffs -”

Newly freed, we exit the top of the stairs onto a tiny flat outdoor area, upon which is a snugly-placed round table with two chairs and an ashtray. Behind the table is a sliding glass door. You can see none of it from the backyard. Kent pushes open the door to let us into the little apartment.

“So, it used to be the attic.” he flips on the lights; a fan on the ceiling begins to spin lazily. “I converted it.”

There’s a faded red couch against the nearest wall, and a kitchen against the farthest - bigger than the kitchenette at the other place, but still tiny. To the right and left are two closed doors, which I know lead to the bedroom and the extra storage closet. A few boxes of Ellen’s old toys are shoved against the back wall. The entire place looks grey in the weak, rainy light, but at least it’s fully lit, which is more than most attics can boast.

“It’s roomier than it looks,” Kent says, leaning his shoulder against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. “The rent is highly reasonable. Though I do have to disclose that this falls under the sheriff’s jurisdiction. You may be arrested just for fun on some days.”

“Is she the one who collects the rent?” Aiden asks, wandering over to the kitchen.

“Only if it needs to be taken by force.”

Aiden turns to look at the kitchen set up, and Kent catches my eye, one brow quirked. What are you doing right now? he’s basically asking. I try to distill all of the events and discoveries of this afternoon into one facial expression, which only serves to deepen the look of concern being aimed my way. Now he starts mouthing something at me, and I start mouthing back: what are you saying? what?

This breaks off abruptly as Aiden turns back around.

“Do you need landlord references or a deposit or something, Kent?”

“No,” Kent says, clearly surprised. “Come on, Aiden. You’re from Ketterbridge! I know you. Did you forget what it’s like here? You really should have come back sooner.”

“I know that,” Aiden answers, and sounds surprisingly sorrowful. He clears his throat. “I’d like to take it, then.”

“Great. When do you want to move in?”

“He only brought a backpack worth of stuff,” I put in, and turn to Aiden. “When are the rest of your things getting here?”

“I don’t have anything else on the way.”

I turn slowly to make eye contact with Kent, who doesn’t seem as disturbed by this as I am.

“If you only have a backpack worth of stuff you can move in tonight,” he tells Aiden, who has just pulled open the fridge.

“How long ago did the last person move out?” Aiden asks, backing up to show us the contents of the fridge. “I’m only asking because I’m scared of what might be growing in that ketchup bottle.”

“Don’t worry.” Kent awkwardly rubs his arm. “The last tenant was me, and the ketchup bottle is all yours. Consider it a moving in gift.”

A flicker of confusion crosses Aiden’s face, but he just nods.

“Thanks. I guess I’ll go get my stuff.”

Downstairs, Kent grabs my arm just inside the front door as Aiden steps out into the rain.

“What’s going on, don’t you hate this guy?” he whispers. “You realize if he moves into my place, you’re significantly increasing your odds of running into him? I mean, even higher than they are now, which is already high, because this is Ketterbridge?”

“I know, I know, but you needed a tenant and he needed a place and the last place just wouldn’t do.”

“Oh, well, if the last place wouldn’t do,” Kent answers, shaking his head. “You have got to stop doing favors for people, Jamie.”

“I am stopping. I’m stopping right after this.”

“Jamie!” Aiden calls, from the car. “Come on, I need a ride back to my aunt’s!”

“Coming!” I shout back, and Kent lets out a laugh that quickly turns into a cough. “Shut up, Kent!”

“Talk to me like that again and I’ll set the sheriff on you.”

I get back into the car with no small amount of grumbling. Aiden turns the music back on as we pull away from the curb, but then immediately turns it down. I look up and catch his gaze in the rearview mirror, and quickly look away.

“Thanks,” he says, over the soft music and the beating of the windshield wipers. “I thought it would be a whole long process to find a place. This solved everything pretty quickly.”

“Yes, I know. I’m amazing. Macchiatos on you next time.”

The rest of the conversation is given over to Kent and Ellen, how they’ve been, ways to stay on the sheriff’s good side, whether any tickets she may issue him would actually go on his record (probably, yes). It’s surprisingly easy, talking to him, and I’m starting to wonder how this version of Aiden relates to the last one I knew. Both versions are quiet and snippy, but this version is way less - I don’t know. In your face?

We pull up to Ms. Callahan’s curb.

“Do you need a ride back to Kent’s after this?” I ask. Weirdly I feel like I wouldn’t mind giving him one.

“Nah, I didn’t realize how close it is. I’ll wait until the rain breaks in a bit and walk over.”

“Are you sure? I can wait a few minutes if you need to pack things up.”

“No, really, it’s fine.”

“Okay. Well, see you later.”

Aiden hesitates, then reaches over and shifts the car into park. I glance over at him, surprised.

“Uh..?”

“Listen, Jamie. I’m sorry if I was a little… stiff, before. I didn’t know you were going to be the one picking me up from the airport, I got that news in a text from my aunt like, ten minutes after my plane landed. I mean, I had planned to come and see you and talk to you after I’d been back for a few days, but I wasn’t really prepared, in that moment.”

He pauses, like he wants to give me a chance to say something, but for once I’m speechless. I have no idea what he’s talking about, and I’m afraid that it’s written all over my face.

“Sure,” I end up saying, speaking before I can properly think about my words. “You decided to come back to Ketterbridge for the first time in like a decade and you planned to see me.”

“Yes. I did.” He looks so serious. I narrow my eyes, suspicious.

“I can tell this is some kind of trap.”

“I can understand why you’d think that.” If this is a joke or manipulation, Aiden is an expert. I mean, there is no crack in the facade. “Honestly, I get it. But I was planning to come talk to you. I wanted to say that - I heard about what happened, and I’m really sorry. I tried to get back in time for the funeral, but there were no flights.”

I feel like someone has kicked my legs out from under me. I just stare at him, because I am struggling right now.

“How did you even hear about that?”

“My -” He hesitates. “Ah, my aunt called me and filled me in.”

This rings like a lie to me. Some wrong note in his tone stands out.

“Okay…”

“Anyways, the point is, I’m so fucking sorry.”

He sounds like he genuinely means it, too.

“Since when do you even care about her?” I can’t help but ask. “Since when do you care about me, for that matter? In high school -”

“Jamie, there are a lot of things I regret about high school.”

A ringing silence takes over in the car.

“I mean. Doesn’t everyone basically regret everything about high school?”

The tension breaks as Aiden drops his head back against the passenger’s seat, pressing his palms against his eyes. He lets out a long groan.

“You are such a stupid ass.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Because I already know that.”

He laughs, and I laugh too, relieved that we’ve veered away from wherever that was going. I mean, what a disaster in the making. He wants to have some kind of serious talk about high school? I can’t think of a more horrifying prospect. If literally anyone asked me to do that I would flee the room immediately. I wish I could flee the car right now. But also I kind of want to know what he was going to say. What could he possibly be about to say, now that I think about it? I wonder if I’m too late to backtrack a little. Maybe Aiden is the only one I’d have this conversation with, but that’s due to pure curiosity.

I’ve gone on a little bit of a road trip with my thoughts, I guess, and there’s been a longer-than-comfortable silence in the car.

“Hey,” I try, not sure how to back us up, “If you want to talk -”

A knocking at the window makes both of us jump. Ms. Callahan, under an umbrella, waves and smiles through the glass.

“Better go.” Aiden sits upright, holds still for a moment, and then gets out without another word. He immediately puts his arm around his aunt’s shoulders and steers her back towards the house, before she can talk to me or ask me for another favor. I watch them go, my mind reeling.

I need to talk to Kasey. Let’s hope she’s at the flower shop.