Under One Roof by Ali Hazelwood EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Ali Hazelwood
- Language: English
- Genre: Romantic Comedy
- Format: PDF/ EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Six months ago
“Frankly, They get on like a house on fire is the most misleading saying in
the English language. Faulty wiring? Misuse of heating equipment?
Suspected arson? Not evocative of two people getting along in the least.
You know what a house on fire has me picturing? Bazookas.
Flamethrowers. Sirens in the distance. Because nothing is more guaranteed
to start a house fire than two enemies blowtorching each other’s most prized
possession. Want to trigger an explosion? Being nice to your roommate is
not going to do it. Lighting a match on top of their kerosene-soaked
handmade quilt, on the other hand—”
“Miss?” The Uber driver turns, looking guilty about interrupting my preapocalyptic spiel. “Just a heads-up—we’re about five minutes from your
destination.”
I smile an apologetic Thank you and glance back at my phone. My two
best friends’ faces take up the entire screen. Then, on the upper corner
there’s me: more frowny than usual (well justified), more pasty than usual
(is that even possible?), more ginger than usual (must be the filter, right?).
“That’s a totally fair take, Mara,” Sadie says with a puzzled expression,
“and I encourage you to submit your, um, very valid complaints to Madame
Merriam-Webster or whoever’s in charge of these matters, but . . . I literally
only asked you how the funeral went.”
“Yes, Mara—how’d—funeral—go—?” The quality on Hannah’s end of
the call is pitiful, but that’s business as usual.
This, I suppose, is what happens when you meet your best friends in
grad school: One minute you’re happy as a clam, clutching your shiny
brand-new engineering diploma, giggling your way through a fifth round of
Midori sours. The next you’re in tears, because you’re all going separate
ways. FaceTime becomes as necessary as oxygen. There are zero neongreen cocktails in sight. Your slightly deranged monologues don’t happen in
the privacy of the apartment you share, but in the semipublic backseat of an
Uber, while you’re on your way to have a very, very weird conversation.
See, that’s the thing I hate the most about adulting: at some point, one
has to start doing it. Sadie is designing fancy eco-sustainable buildings in
New York City. Hannah is freezing her butt off at some Arctic research
station NASA put up in Norway. And as for me . . .
I’m here. Moving to D.C. to start my dream job—scientist at the
Environmental Protection Agency. On paper, I should be over the moon.
But paper burns so fast. As fast as houses on fire.
“Helena’s funeral was . . . interesting.” I lean back against the seat. “I
guess that’s the upside of knowing that you’re about to die. You get to bully
people a bit. Tell them that if they don’t play ‘Karma Chameleon’ while
lowering your casket your ghost will haunt their progeny for generations.”
“I’m just glad you guys were able to be with her in the last few days,”
Sadie says.
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