My Girlfriend Slept With My Best Friend First novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Housekeeping Rules

Jo lays down two rules. Devin goes to collect his things and finds Megan cheerful and packing, and her open laptop shows the game's scoreboard with a new line about him.

I woke up at seven to a key in the lock and the smell of hospital soap.

Jo came in, dropped her bag on the kitchen chair and looked at me on her couch.

"Good. You didn't leave."

"Did you work all night?"

"Twelve hours. A man swallowed a hearing aid and a kid fell off a roof. I want to sleep for six days."

She filled a glass of water and drank it standing up.

"Rules," she said.

"I didn't know there were rules."

"There are now. One. We don't talk about Megan after midnight. Nothing good gets said after midnight."

"Okay."

"Two. You don't touch my bedroom door handle. I sleep with it locked and I'm not explaining why."

"Okay."

She looked at me for a long moment.

"Three. You eat something before you do anything stupid."

She put two slices of bread in the toaster, set a jar of peanut butter in front of me, and went into her room.

The lock clicked behind her.

I ate the toast. Then I put on yesterday's clothes and went to get my things.

Megan and I shared a one-bedroom in Squirrel Hill. Both names were on the lease.

When I opened the door, music was playing.

She was standing in the middle of the living room in her cream cardigan with an open suitcase at her feet, folding sweaters.

"There you are!" she said. "I was worried. Shane wouldn't pick up, and you didn't either."

She came over and hugged me.

I stood there with my arms at my sides.

She smelled like her vanilla shampoo, the same as every morning for four years.

"Megan."

"I know, I know." She stepped back and held my face. "Last night got dramatic. I should have told you in private. But you know me, I can't keep a secret. And honestly, it's better out, isn't it?"

"You told me in front of nine people."

"They won't care by Monday."

"One of them posted it."

"Oh, that." She waved a hand. "She just likes attention. I'll tell her to take it down."

She went back to the suitcase.

"Did you listen to the voice message?" I asked.

For half a second her hands stopped on a gray sweater.

"What voice message?"

"The one you sent me by mistake. Round three. You lose. You owe me."

She laughed, and the laugh came out too fast.

"Oh my God, that. Shane and I have this stupid game. We've had it since freshman year of high school. We keep score on dares. It's not about you, babe."

"What does he owe you?"

"A flight on my points. I'm taking him to Lisbon, I told you that."

"You told me you were taking him."

"I said it last night. You were there."

"No," I said. "You said you were going alone."

She turned and smiled at me.

"Then I changed my mind. It's allowed. He's a mess, Devin. He needs somebody to take care of him, and you obviously can't be around him right now. This way everybody wins."

She said it kindly.

It was the kind way she had always said everything.

"I'm packing my stuff," I said.

"Take your time. I'm going to the bathroom."

She picked up her phone and went down the hall.

I went to the bedroom.

The wardrobe was half full of her dresses. My side held four shirts, a rain jacket and a duffel.

I pulled the duffel out and started filling it.

Her laptop sat open on the desk by the window, where she had left it.

The screen had not gone dark.

I wasn't looking for anything.

It was a plain white note, and the title at the top said ROUNDS.

Under it ran four years of lines.

Each line had a date, a letter and a number.

Megan had used P for herself and R for Shane.

There was a line for the first week of ninth grade. R: ate the school-bus gum. P+1.

A line for junior year. P: made R wear a dress to the pep rally. P+1.

The score ran down the page in Megan's favor.

I scrolled to the night of her birthday.

It said: Round 1 (real). P. R stays quiet. Forever.

Below it, in the same list, ran four years of lines I could not make sense of.

R drives P to the airport, 2 a.m. P+1.

R lies to O about the lake trip. P+1.

R sits out the junior prom. P+1.

R: gives P the apartment keys. P+1.

I read down to the end.

The newest line had been typed this morning.

It said: Round 4. O leaves quietly. R carries my bags to the gate.

Behind me, the bathroom tap was running.

I took out my phone and photographed the whole screen.

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