Charlie
Living with Carly is like housing a raccoon that knows how to use a credit card.
She eats weird snacks at 2 a.m., threatens my Tinder matches, and stares at me like she's measuring me for a coffin and a tux at the same time.
And tonight? She's extra Carly.
We're watching a movie. She's curled up beside me on the couch wearing one of my old t-shirts—long enough to be a dress, short enough that I can't stand up without revealing exactly how not chill I am about the situation.
I keep telling myself she's just being her usual self.
Carly's always been... extra.
But when she drops her legs across my lap like it's nothing and starts absentmindedly stroking my thigh with her toes while eating popcorn?
I start wondering if she's trying to kill me.
"So, who's Madison?" she asks sweetly, eyes still on the screen.
I flinch. "Uh… What?"
"Your phone lit up. Madison texted you." She pops another kernel in her mouth. "That's a new one. You move fast."
"She's just someone I matched with—wait, how'd you see that? My phone's behind the—"
"I have good eyes."
Jesus Christ.
"She cute?" Carly asks, still way too casual.
"I guess?" I shrug. "Didn't really get that far. She unmatched me this morning."
"Oh no," Carly says, faux-gasping. "What a tragedy. How will you ever go on?"
I narrow my eyes. "You didn't… happen to do anything, did you?"
She blinks. Innocent mode: activated.
"Me?" she says, clutching her popcorn bowl like a nun holding a Bible. "Charlie, I'm offended."
I stare at her.
She stares back.
And then she smirks. Just a little.
My brain short-circuits. Because I still don't know what game she's playing. I just know it involves me, emotional whiplash, and possibly arson.
Later that night, I find out she replaced my bed sheets. Again.
"These were fine," I say, confused, holding up the brand-new set she put on.
She shrugs, brushing past me in a towel. Fresh from the shower. Hair dripping. Skin flushed. "The old ones had… girl energy."
"Girl energy."
"Yeah." She leans into my doorway, towel dangerously close to betraying gravity. "Didn't feel right."
I stare at her.
She walks away.
And I officially add 'survive Carly Dorrington' to my to-do list.