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34 | FRANCESCA PE NN

comfortable with Sanya from the moment we met, even when she was rambling. We
have an easygoing relationship, and I hope this temporary arrangement doesn’t
change it.

I unlock the door and hang my keys on the key rack. I feel strange being in her
home without her. I know this feeling will fade eventually, but it doesn’t stop me
from standing in the foyer for longer than I want to admit. I take in the simple, yet
stunning décor, and the scent of warm vanilla and jasmine hangs in the air. Home. I
try to shake the notion out of my head, but it takes root and grows, spreading through
my body like hot tea on a chilly day.

“This is home,” I whisper to myself, too scared to say it loudly.
I stop in the living room. It is built for comfort. I can imagine Sanya’s little body
curled up in the middle of the massive navy leather sectional. She probably lounges
on the attached chaise while watching her favorite shows. My musings are
interrupted by the soft click of the front door closing.

I turn to see Sanya. She’s nautical today. She is wearing a navy skirt with a white
and navy patterned shirt. Her red pumps make her a little taller. She hangs her keys
next to mine; the finality clicks in, we are roommates. We stand for a moment taking
each other in; the intimacy of the arrangement washes over both of us. Our
friendship is officially on a different level. I’m not sure what to say. A plain hello
seems inadequate.
She slides her red purse off her shoulder and places it on the table under the key
rack. Her eyes never leave mine. I take a step towards her. She copies my move. We

are inching closer to each other as if we are controlled by strong magnets. My whole
body is attuned to her presence. I’m not sure why we are inching closer together. I
don’t know what will happen when we met in the middle either. I just know that our
bodies crave the other’s personal space. Our breathing is the only soundtrack. I slide
my hands into my pockets lest they do anything weird. We are closer – touching
distance if one of us is bold enough to try. Will I reach for her or her me? For what
purpose? Questions flows through my head, but I don’t dare answer them.
I can smell her perfume. Flowery, soft, and feminine just like her. I love her scent.
The hum of the AC kicking in is enough to break the trance. I look up at the vent as
the air washes over my body, cooling my skin and nerves. If I want to keep the
transition as smooth as possible, I need to keep my distance. I don’t want my deep