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Late one evening I hear a knock. I close my laptop, stand up from the bed, and open the door (no footsteps are needed). "Eve?"

"Hey, we're throwing you a house warming!" says Eve, holding up a half-empty bottle of wine.

"I see you started the party early," I say with a laugh.

Steven waves from behind Eve. "The shed looks great, Tim."

"Thanks," I reply.

"I forgot to invite your other friends...do you have other friends?" asks Eve.

I really hadn't reignited many friendships since returning to Eugene. "Come on in," I say, ignoring the question as I open the door wide. I sit on the bed and Steven drags in two plastic chairs. There's barely enough room for all of us.

"You doing alright out here?" asks Steven.

I nod. "It's cozy, but I like it."

"Especially because there's no rent, right?" says Eve, slapping my shoulder. "Hey Stevie, pour that wine!"

"I'm on it," says Steven. He fills up a tumbler to the brim with Pinot Noir and hands it to me.

"Nice, thanks," I say. Whiskey is my booze of choice, but wine will do. We all empty a bottle, then another, sharing dirty jokes and old stories. I reminisce with Eve about our past, doing my best not to delve too deeply into the more awkward moments of our relationship. The emptier the bottle becomes, the looser my lips get. "Eve, I'm happy to help out on this shed, but remember the last time we tried working together?"

Eve laughs. "Oh god. That mural was terrible. You kept fucking up my vision!"

I shake my head. "Because you never let me have any say in what was going on the wall! Afterall, I was the one holding the brush."

Eve leans over and rustles my hair. "You were so young and angsty. It was adorable."

I shrug. "I suppose five years age difference meant a lot more back then. Still, I think I had a few decent ideas."

Eve giggles. "If I didn't like your ideas, I wouldn't keep you around, Tim."

Keep me around. I feel blood rushing to my head. "Don't talk to me like I'm some kind of pet."

"Hey, easy you two," says Steven, after clearing his throat. He's not as sloshed as we are.

I sigh, regretting my outburst. "We always talk like this. Don't worry."

Eve nods and tilts back the last wine bottle. "This is how creative people communicate...with vitriolic insults and backhanded compliments."

"Well, you don't talk to me like that, Eve." says Steven, crossing his arms.

Eve leans against Steven's arm and rubs his chest through his flannel shirt. "Because your brain's different. You're a normie and I love that."

I realize Eve's passive aggressive barbs aren't solely reserved for me. She has a big heart—her letting me stay here is proof—but it can be deeply buried.

"Hey, I can be creative!" protests Steven, looking crestfallen. "You think managing a bunch of contractors doesn't take artistry? Build sites can be a real—"

"Shhh," says Eve, putting a finger to her husband's lips. Her cheeks are red. "You're plenty creative in the bedroom, sweetie." She rubs her inner thigh and I have to look away. "Nothing is more inspiring than your—"

"Alright," interrupts Steven with a nervous laugh. He kisses Eve and it lasts far too long for my liking. "Come on, we better let Tim get to bed," he says. "I'm sure he's got plans tomorrow."

"yeah, definitely," I lie.

"Ugh, you two deserve each other," groans Eve as she stands up on thin, wobbling legs. She turns around and stares at the tarp. "What the hell is that?" Before I can say anything, she's ripping away the covering on my collection of blue paintings.

"Eve, wait. I'm just trying—"

"Whoa. Is this your blue period, Picasso?" slurs Eve. "You know what, I actually like these."

"Really?" I ask. I'm expecting mockery.

"Yeah. I think you're almost ready."

Eve's expression is unsettling. I'm baffled. "Ready?"

"Come on, you're about to pass out," says Steven, gently grabbing Eve's shoulder to lead her out of the shed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Eve," I say.

"Of course you will," says Eve with a boozy snicker. "You're living all over me."

Steven gives me a smile and a nod before the happy couple returns to the house. A few minutes later I'm forced to turn on the fan again.

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