That night, and the following nights, Phoebe found that sleeping on the couch was oddly comforting. The first floor of Julia’s house was open, with the living room, dining room, and kitchen all connected in an L-shape. She could hear everyone moving around: Julia coming downstairs in the early morning, Cat staying up late typing away in his study. Sometimes she heard Silver yowling, but the only fright she got was when she woke up to Cat sleepwalking in the dead of night, trying to open the sliding door to the back yard. Tendrils were growing out of his fur.
She only caught glimpses of Kirk. A flash of skin, some ruddy color on his face. But the moment she came too close, he was gone. Having the guest room wasn’t helping him acclimate. He stayed holed up in it for hours.
The holing-up only got worse when Cat suggested that he learn to control his invisibility. Everyone was on board with the idea except Kirk, who claimed that it just wasn’t possible.
“I can go anywhere I want without people like you bothering me!” he said the next time Bluebell encroached on his territory.
“Even if you work from home, you still need to be visible enough to get an apartment and ride the bus.”
“I’m fine,” Kirk sighed, his voice biting. “I’ll find a place soon.”
Nearly everything produced an anxious indifference from him, as though the mere idea of taking action was a weight that he was stuck under. The same weight, Phoebe mused, that had kept her from applying to universities for multiple years.
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