CHAPTER THIRTY

Shersh stepped into her empty home.
"Mom, I'm ho- ...oh, right. This is going to take some getting used to."
She dropped her bookbag at the door and stomped up to her room.
Throwing herself on the bed, she first sighed with the weight of the world, then screamed at the man in her room. Then demurred.
"Oh, hey Jonathan Mooseknuckles. I didn't expect to see you here."
"Sup."
"Cuz it's my room and all."
"Oh, I was just..." he started, closing the top drawer of Shersh's dresser slyly, "I was just... is this not my room?"
"No," said Shersh, "It's mine."
"Rightio. Well, I've been bewitched by you since the moment you noticed me in the hallway before, or whatever." He slid close to her, "But what if this were our room?"
"Ew," said Shersh, "That was super douchey."
"Yeah, well, I'm kinda trying to tap dance around explaining what I was doing in here."
He brought his clenched fist to his nose and inhaled deeply.
"Not that I'm not into it," she said, "It's just... things are weird."
She thought of that lusty, musty-gym wolf romp from earlier.
"Oh, with your mom dead and all?" offered Jonathan.
"Oh, right."
She thought further. Here was the strapping Jonathan Mooseknuckles standing before her. Shirtless, for some reason, and sniffing his fist again.
And where was Vonce? She'd just come home for the first time since her mom died and where was he?
Probably overlooking a majestic canyon in that jacket and thinking about the world while the sun set.
And here she was. Alone. In her time of need.
No. That's not right. Not alone.
"Come here," she said to Jonathan Mooseknuckles.