Free Friend Is a Four Letter Word by Steph Campbell

I can step into the apartment. It’s spotless and neatly organized. All of the furnishings have clean lines. There are walls covered in precisely lined shelves full of books, and others painted dark with nothing cluttering them. But I immediately notice something is missing: Ben’s exquisite photographs are nowhere on display. Not at all how I pictured Quinn’s place looking.
    “All joking about peanuts aside, Quinn’s not around. Did she know you were coming?” Carter’s looking at my face with that serious expression that lets me know he truly cares about hearing my answer.
    Despite all of my normal brashness, I suddenly feel so self-conscious standing here.
    “No,” I say, pulling my sweater closed, like that’ll leave me feeling less exposed. I shake my head and push my bangs off of my forehead. “No. I just, I was in town—”
    “Oh yeah? Where are you staying?” Carter asks, grinning like he knows better.
    “Oh, um, I haven’t checked in anywhere yet. But I’ll find something close by, I’m sure.” Or not. Maybe I’ll just get in my car and drive right back to Georgia. Except I can barely keep my eyes open. I stopped a couple of times the last few hundred miles. Every mile marker I passed seemed to laugh at me, mocking my belief that I would ever get to where I was going. I pulled over into rest stops and cat napped before hitting the gas station to fuel up and pour energy drinks down my throat. What kept me going despite how tired I was, was being so sure that when I got here, Quinn would welcome me with a big, delicious meal—something like her famous lentil soup or something local and fresh. And after I stuffed myself, I’d curl up and sleep for days. Maybe even wake up with some semblance of an actual plan. “I’ll just hang out until Quinn gets home. You know, so I can say hello.”
    “Oh, I should’ve been more clear. Quinn is out of town. She and Ben went up north for some culinary underground thing she enrolled in.” For a few beats we just look at each other as the reality of this situation sinks in.
    “So, you’re apartment sitting?” I should have called. Why didn’t I just call first?
    Carter shakes his head and says, “Nope, this is my place. Quinn and Ben have the apartment down the hall.”
    That makes so much more sense. “I thought—Quinn said you lived across town.”
    All of the texting Carter and I had done over the last few months, you’d think he could have mentioned a move.
    Carter plops down onto one of the fabric bolstered chairs so I take the one across from him, setting my bag next to my feet awkwardly.
    “I did, but it was a hike to work. Spent more of my day on the freeway than I did at the office. They wanted a little more room for all of Quinn’s cooking junk and Ben’s photography equipment so when an apartment down the hall opened up, they moved and I took this one.” he says. It’s strange thinking of him as a suit. With a real job. The last time I saw him, he needed a haircut and a shave to be deemed presentable for your average blue collar job.
    “How is it? Work I mean?” I ask.
    “It’s good. You caught me on a weird day, working from home,” he says. He stretches back in the chair, pulling the plain white t-shirt tight across his chest. “Can I get you something to drink? Eat? I was kidding about you making me peanuts, by the way.”
    I wave him off. “No, I’m good. Actually, I guess I should probably get going. And I promise I will make them for you one of these days.” I get up from the chair, sling my bag over my shoulder and start toward the door. “Could you tell Quinn I stopped by? Maybe I’ll catch her the next time I’m in town.”
    I turn back toward Carter, but he’s already up. Close. So close I catch the faintest scent of his cologne. It’s earthy with a little spice. I remember it from last Christmas. Back then I’d thought it was the smell of the rain in the trees as we stood outside at that lookout point. But