The Trouble With Before by Portia Moore

after I drop Hillary at the bus station,” he says.
    “No!” I tell him, and he frowns. “I don’t know if Jack will be there, and if he is, he’s going to say something that will make you want to smash his face in. Since Grams is out of town and I’m pretty much broke, you’ll be in jail with no one to bail you out.”
    He stares at me stubbornly. Those blue eyes could slice through ice, but I don’t relent.
    “Hey, I can leave her my things. What are you, size four, right?” Hillary interrupts our standoff.
    “I-I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I tell her, a little surprised at her offer.
    She shrugs it off as if it’s not a big deal. “It’s not much. Just a few pairs of jeans and tanks.”
    “How much stuff did you bring?” Aidan blurts out.
    I give him a “I can’t believe you just asked that” look. He gives me an “I’m Aidan and I never think before I speak” look back.
    “Relax, I wasn’t trying to move in with you and the little woman or anything. I just over pack,” Hillary responds with a twinge of bitterness in her voice.
    They glare at each other a brief second.
    “Still,” I relent. Walking around in Aidan’s house wearing his semi girl friends clothes is weird.
    “Trust me, I know what it’s like to not want to deal with parents,” she says, for the first time offering me a genuine smile.
    “Okay. Thank you,” I say.
    She hops up from the table, gives Aidan’s shoulder a loving squeeze, and leaves the room. Aidan turns toward me and smiles tightly. Uh oh, I know that look. He looks as if he’s in a closet with claustrophobia closing in on him.
    “I-I don’t know why she brought that many clothes for an overnight trip,” he whisper-shouts to me.
    “Relax, she’s a girl. We over pack for everything,” I assure him, though I’m sure she planned on leaving things around to make sure whoever she imagines Aidan brings here would see them.
    “So how are you feeling?” he asks, and I shrug.
    “As good as a girl who gets kicked out of her house twice in less than two weeks can,” I kid.
    He leans forward, putting his weight on his elbows. “I meant about the other thing.”
    “Oh, umm good. Nothing special to report.” I laugh, and he frowns at me. For the first time since I saw him in California, I feel nervous.
    Hillary comes back with three camisoles, all various shades of black, and three pair of jeans and two oversized night shirts, all items that I would have bought myself. Aidan’s eyes go a little wider at the inventory of clothing she hands me.
    “All yours,” she sings.
    “Thank you again. I really appreciate it.”
    “What’s your problem?” she asks Aidan.
    “Nothing,” he says in the way that guys do when everything is wrong but they don’t want to talk about it. “I’m going to hit the shower.”
    After he leaves Hillary and me alone, she rolls her eyes. “Ugh! What is his problem?”
    The old me would have told her what his problem was, but the new Lisa that I’m working on being is learning to mind her own business, especially since if he kicks me out, I’ll be in motel hell for who knows how long.

    IT’S NOT SURPRISING that a little after Aidan stormed off to shower and Hillary followed him, an argument ensued. Even less surprising is that soon after that that, they made up—very loudly. At least I was able to drown that out by taking my own shower.
    Hillary yelled an obligatory good-bye as I changed clothes, and I did the same. Aidan told me he’d be back in about thirty minutes, so after they left, I searched the house for Aidan’s iPhone charger to give my phone some juice. I’m not expecting anyone to try to reach me though. I still haven’t heard from Brett since the day everything unfolded, my mom doesn’t have this number—not that she’d call me anyway—and the only person who I can call a friend is letting me stay in his house. So I’m surprised when I see a text message alert at the top of my phone screen. It’s