"I can't believe you don't host the group here more often," said Jace, his eyes wide as he was once again struck by the magnitude of our house. He had last been here yesterday, so it was really time for him to get over it.

"Oh, I do. I just don't invite you," I said breezily as I unlocked the door.

"Thanks, bestie," he said.

"No problems, homebrero."

"Champ."

"Pal."

"Sport."

"Homie."

"Friend."

"That's basic and boring. Compadre."

"Okay," said Jace in surrender. "I'm out."

I relished the taste of sweet, sweet victory. It was cute when Hartley lost. Beating him was generally my favourite activity.

"Aw, that's sad. Mate, homeboy, buddy, companion, comrade."

"Remind me to never compete with you in any word games."

"It's cute that you call it competing. Is it still a competition if the other person doesn't provide any sort of competition?"

Jace chuckled. "Hilarious."

"I thought so."

I let him inside the house with a flourish. So different to yesterday, when I'd almost been tempted to barricade the door, as if he was a psycho killer on his way to murder me and I was boarding up the house. He probably would've burnt it down. Like a dick. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Neither you nor the abode is humble," Jace muttered.

I didn't argue. "Welcome to my ostentatious, deeply narcissistic abode! Please grab a stick from the entrance hall and stick it up your ass, as this is a requirement of all residents."

When Jace laughed, it was hearty, and genuine, and it made an unfamiliar warmth spread through my chest. Jace always laughed at my jokes, which was understandable, as I was undeniably hilarious, but it had never elicited this pleased reaction from me.

This was new, and I did not like it.

"So that's what Reece Moore meant when he said you liked it a bit freaky," said Jace. "Up the ass, huh? Interesting."

I threw my hands up. Fucking Reece Moore. Why does he seem to feel the need to blab, constantly. No one asked, perv. "Reece is a douche, and I request that you don't listen to him, ever."

"No denial. Also interesting."

I threw an apple at him. He caught it. He was looking unbearably smug. Clearly, Reece's unnecessary tattling had gone around the whole school, if even Jace, who rarely participated in the gossip mill, had heard it. Like, honestly, who even cared what I liked? Reece was a shameless social climber. Messing around with me was not going to raise his social status, but he was obviously deluded if he thought telling everyone about me would.

I hated Reece Moore deeply in this moment. "How come you got to date McKenna, and I got Reece Moore?"

"Because I have better taste."

"Wanna swap?"

Jace shrugged. "Reece has very nice hair."

He wasn't wrong. Reece had fabulous hair. Apparently, his hair had bewitching powers. Hadn't allowed me to see the asshole within. Like, seriously? Between telling Knight I'd touched Little Reece and telling Jace I liked it "freaky", which, ew, Reece Moore may as well write and publish a manifesto. Ew.

"McKenna has very nice hair too, so I am satisfied with this trade."

"Done deal."

I saw Jace surreptitiously glance at the fridge. He was always hungry, constantly. Between training for football most nights and his general size, it was hardly surprising.

"You hungry?" I asked Jace. "We have... well, what do you want? Natia isn't in until later, so we'll have to make something ourselves."

"Natia?"

"Our chef."

"Oh, your chef," said Jace lightly. "Of course. And what a burden! Making food ourselves. Are we... surely not... but are we supposed to cut it up ourselves too? And of course, someone is feeding us as well, right? I cannot eat unless someone does 'here comes the airplane'." He put on a British accent for this last part, and it sounded weirdly good.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm an entitled brat."

"You said it, not me."

I lifted the bags. "I'm just gonna run these upstairs, but help yourself to anything."

"Sure thing. I'll see you in 20 business days?"

"My house is not that big."

"10 business days?"

"With the walk to the closet factored in, maybe 11. We're not animals."

Jace grinned and walked into the pantry. I heard him say "holy shit" at the size of it, which triggered my smile. It was rather large. But with bulk Costco items, it was more practical to have the space to store everything.

I left Jace to admire the assortment of snacks and meals, and climbed the stairs hurriedly. It burned my legs to climb the enormous flight. I'd once asked Dad to install an elevator; he responded by lamenting the selfish, ungrateful children he had raised. He did that often, like it was our fault we were spoiled. Like, I didn't raise me. Seems like a him problem.

I did not tell him that. He might send me to military camp.

When I dumped the stack of heavy bags in my room, I could hear Knight rustling around in the closet. Stealthy, I thought. He didn't know it was me. If Olivia walked in, or, god forbid, my mother, he would be discovered immediately. He would never have a career as a spy.

"Hey Knight, it's me," I called out.

His head popped around the closet door. His hair was rumpled, and his eyes squinted as he adjusted to the light seeping in through the window. "Oh, thank god. Was I making any noise?"

I shook my head. "Yes! God. You have one brain cell." I looked skyward, praying for patience. "I am going to be supporting you for your whole life. You'll never find a job."

"Thanks, Mum. I will continue to disappoint the family."

"I have faith in you."

Knight grinned. I threw him a phone. It was a refurbished iPhone, a couple years old but in working condition. Telstra had fixed up a plan for him, with unlimited data, texts and calls. I got the feeling he would be texting me a lot.

Knight cradled it to his chest. "Hello, baby."

"Don't be weird."

Knight held uncomfortable eye contact with me as he dropped a gentle kiss on the top of the phone.

I rolled my eyes and threw him the bag of clothing. "Enjoy."

He pulled out hot pink yoga pants. "Stunning. My ass will look amazing in this."

"Work it."

He struck a pose, and I giggled.

"Oh hey, also. Jace is here." Knight wiggled his eyebrows and I swatted him playfully. "it's for a project, asshole. Anyway, we're probably going to use the playroom thing through the double doors."

"The obsessive Jace Hartley hatred shrine?"

I fumed silently, but couldn't exactly refute the statement. "Uh, yeah, that. Anyway, the others won't be home for another few hours, and oh, also, Austin knows about you. So we don't really have to hide from him as much anymore. So you can just go hang out in his room, play some video games or whatever."

Knight seemed dazed by the plethora of news dropped on him. "Firstly, do you want me in a different room so you can murder Hartley? 'Cause you don't need to shield me from that, I could totally help hide the body. Secondly, Austin knows about me?" said Knight. "Since when?"

"Thank you for your support. And since we can't keep our voices down."

"How did he take it?"

I grimaced. "He's making me be nice to Hartley."

"Ew, we hate Hartley. We were just plotting his murder."

"Yeah, exactly."

"Want me to push you off a bridge?"

"Getting there."

He grinned. "Bestie bridge pact!"

"Fun weekend plans."

He winked. "You know it."

"Well, I have to go downstairs and entertain my friend for the day!"

Knight placed a sympathetic hand on my arm. "Thank you for this sacrifice. We can revenge toilet paper his house tomorrow."

"I love you," I said, joyfully.

"Enough to let me come downstairs and meet evil hot Hartley?"

"No."

"Boo, you whore."

I left Knight with his new things, immediately regretting giving him a phone when the first message pinged through as I was one step outside the room. Bloody hell. He was like a clingy puppy dog.

Knight: I know he sucks, and he is the worst. But mad appreciate the dedication to the homies.

Knight: But since he's a demon, I could work on potential exorcism strategies.

Knight: What is your personal take on revenge sleep tattoos?

Knight: Follow up question, do you know someone with a tattoo gun?

Knight was my soulmate.

I traipsed down the stairs to find Hartley already in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, meticulously slicing carrots to add to a cute little platter he'd assembled. He'd found cheese, crackers, dip, sliced baguette bread and salami, and arranged them neatly on a wooden board. It was rather gourmet, the kind of thing that someone would post on their Instagram story.

The aesthetic was incredible.

"This is nice," I admitted.

Jace looked up at me. "I remember you said that all food tastes better when it's on a platter. So—" he gestured to his handywork "—platter."

"You're right. It does taste better." Jace was looking back down at the carrots, concentrating on cutting the carrots. "I don't remember telling you that though."

"You said it to Daria and Cady," he said absently. "At Alex and Chance's New Year's party."

That was two years ago.

Jace had a remarkable memory.

"Well," I said. "Thanks. This looks great."

He picked it up carefully, cautious not to dislodge the dip from the side. "To your obsession room?"

"Oh, shut up, everyone needs to stop calling it that."