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do our best to be civil, okay? Be polite.”
    “I
have
been polite,” I said. “You’re the one who—”
    “And don’t do that. No blaming,” he said.
    I closed my mouth.
    “In fact,” he said, “it’s probably better if we don’t talk.”
    He switched on the radio again.
    I sighed and lay my head against my headrest.
    * * *
    Griffin’s apartment was one of four carved out of an old house high on the top of a hilly street in Morgantown. Everything in Morgantown was on a hill, so Griffin’s apartment was fairly typical. It was a one-bedroom. The door opened into a spacious living room which had unfortunate carpet the color of pea soup. It was sparsely decorated and immaculately clean. Griffin was a stickler for stuff like that. It was one of the many things we’d argued about.
    There was a bedroom to the left of the living room. It was tiny, containing only a bed and Griffin’s dresser.
    To the right were the kitchen and bathroom. Both were spotless.
    The apartment was nice, but it was small. If I was going to be here for two weeks, I had a feeling that Griffin and I were going to have a hard time not talking to each other. We were going to be practically on top of each other.
    I headed into the bathroom to change out of the clothes that Sloane had given me, because they were too small, and they were uncomfortable. I was relatively tall, five feet nine inches, and I had trouble finding clothes that fit properly anyway. It was tough to find pants that were the right length and weren’t also enormous at the waist. These clothes were at least a size too small. I peeled out of them and put on something I had in my backpack.
    The shower curtain was open, and I could see inside. Griffin’s shampoo snuggled up to a can of Lady Bic shaving gel. I picked it up. It was lavender scented. That didn’t belong to Griffin.
    I explored the shower a little further. Not only was there girly shaving gel, but there was a woman’s shaver, fruity scented shampoo and conditioner, and a tube of Bikini Zone.
    I stared at all of it for a few moments. Then I jammed the clothes I’d been wearing back into my backpack and left the bathroom. “So, um, that Sloane girl that helped us out?”
    Griffin was crouching in front of the television, sorting through a stack of video games. That had been his plan, I supposed. Race fake cars instead of paying attention to me. Wonderful. He looked up. “Oh, yeah, she’s great. Her and her brother Silas. I met them on the ex-Op Wraith Facebook group.
    I raised my eyebrows. “There’s a Facebook group for assassins?”
    “Yeah,” said Griffin. “Helps us all keep in touch. By chance, Sloane, Silas, and me were all in Morgantown. We hang out sometimes.”
    “Hang out,” I said. “Right. You shave her pubic hair for her, or does she do it while you watch?”
    He wrinkled his brow in confusion.
    “I looked in your shower. Clearly a girl showers there.”
    “Sometimes,” said Griffin. “But not Sloane.”
    I folded my arms over my chest. “So, you have a girlfriend.”
    He got to his feet, sighing. “Yes. I do.”
    “Already?”
    “Already,” he repeated, laughing in disbelief. “It’s been months.”
    “Three months,” I said. “Three and a half months. That’s not long enough to be in a serious enough relationship that she
shaves
at your place.”
    He rubbed his head. “Look, doll—”
    “Don’t call me that.”
    His nostrils flared. “Like you haven’t spread your legs for half of Thomas by now.”
    It was such an ugly thing to say. I took a step backwards. “Fuck you.” I was going to start crying. Man, I was running the waterworks today. But it was warranted. Things had been pretty rough all day long. I wanted someplace to run to, to lock myself in.
    The only place I could go was the bathroom, and I didn’t want to be locked in there with her shampoo and shaving gel.
    So I took long, steadying breaths, and I didn’t move. “I haven’t been with anyone. No