NEW FRIENDS I
Angel's Pov.
“Hello, sir,” my driver says, answering his phone for the second time since we left Andrew’s place.
He listens, eyes on the road and murmurs, “Alright, sir,” then drops the phone back into his lap. That was a short phone call, just like the first one.
The silence settles back in between us, easy, barely unbroken by the low hum of the car. I have a feeling I can speak to him, that if I do he'll reply. But I don't. I keep my head against the window as he drives.
Andrew got me somewhere else to live. I’m on my way there now. And it's for my own good.
Again, I can't complain. He's not leaving me at a shelter, he didn't ask this man to drop me off at a junction.
We’re driving for a total of about fifteen minutes, so not too far from Andrew’s house, I think, but far enough that when I step out, the street is unfamiliar.
The apartment building we stop at is squat, pale brick, four floors with the shiny paint that proudly announces that it's new. I stand on the curb for a moment, as he retrieves my back from the trunk, phone against his ear. Is he talking to Andrew again? That would make it the third time and he hasn't called me once since I left.
Three people step out of the lobby doors. They walk up to the car in that straightforward way that makes it clear they already know at least one of us. And since I've never seen them before, they must know my driver.
I'm right. The driver steps forward, and they have a quick conversation about if the road was clear to which he replies that it was, something he has to reiterate he's sure about four times. And it was, there was barely any traffic, although I'm not sure why they’re so concerned about that.
“These are my friends, Miss,” he says, voice warmer now, obviously because he's in their company.
The tallest one is a woman with a back so broad I almost mistake her for a man until I see the gentle curve of her jaw, and then of her breasts. She wears a plain white top and jeans, but her fingers are covered with gold rings.
She nods at me once, says in a deep and, decidedly, pretty voice, gold grills glinting in her teeth, “I’m Jay.”
Next to her stands someone with the longest hair I’ve ever seen, in my few days of memory. It's honey-blonde, thick, twisted into a single plait that brushes the back of her knees. She wears shorts of the same length, a T-shirt with a cartoon character on it, and waves when my eyes find hers.
“I’m Sadie,” she says, smiling widely but there’s a sharpness behind it, something watchful in her blue eyes.
The last one is wiry, his slimness emphasized even more by his height as he's almost as tall as Jay. The linen trousers he wears, that sit high on his waist, do not help that either. He has tan skin, and a goatee and a pep in his step as walks right up to me and bows with flourish. Oh.
“And I’m Felix,” he says, grinning wide, teeth in braces.
I nod, yanking a smile on my face. “I’m Angel. It’s… it’s really nice to meet you all.”
“The pleasure’s all ours,” Felix says, but there’s a lilt to his tone, playful but probing. Like he’s testing what he can get away with.
My driver clears his throat. Felix lifts both hands in mock surrender, stepping back with that same grin.
“And I’m Ian,” the driver says, a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his head like he’s only just remembered he hasn’t introduced himself. “Let’s get you settled in.”
Ian takes my bigger red bag, leading the way after the beep that locks the car. Jay takes the second one, walking behind us.
Sadie starts chatting as we walk about this new recipe she wants to try, Felix and Jay trying to convince her not to step foot in the kitchen anymore. I try to listen, because they try to include me in their conversation but my mind keeps drifting, every word slipping past me like water down a slide.
Felix makes a show of pretending to hold the elevator door open for me by standing in between them so they don't close, bowing again when I walk in. I manage a tired laugh as he follows behind me.
The ride doesn't take long but it's only when it ends that I notice I'd drifted away from them to press myself against one corner of the spacious elevator.
We step off on the third floor to a total of six apartments in the hall. The walls are painted a soft cream with a small chandelier twinkling overhead. Ian gestures me down to the far end. “All the way to the back, 3F,” he says because I'm not in the lead.
I pause in front of 3F, about to ask for a key when he pushes the door open without ceremony. The apartment is clean at least but completely empty. It has pale white walls, it's cold, and echoes our footsteps back at us as we walk in. There are no curtains, no furniture, no lamps. I didn't think about it but I guess it makes sense.
The previous occupant must have taken their stuff.
“It's the same as your apartment right?” I hear Ian ask someone over his shoulder.
Sadie pipes up, “Yeah. Looks like they built all of them identical.”
“You live here?” I ask, genuinely surprised. There’s something a little comforting in the idea. I barely know them but it's better than nothing.
“Yup,” Ian says, even though I thought it would be Sadie that would reply. “I personally suggested it to Mr. Hills when he was looking for a place for you. I told him this building’s nice and quiet, and it is. You'll like it here. And we live next door.”
“Oh. For how long?” I ask.
I know what I asked; how long have they lived here? But when I hear my words, my mind twists the question to one I have no idea of the answer to, one
I realize I want answered.
How long am I going to live here?