“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, we’re home.” I yawn and open my eyes. “You say that like you live here, too.” We’re home. He has yet to talk me into letting him stay over. I have no doubts that he’s thinking of my safety—well, almost no doubts—but I also know that I would have a very hard time asking him to sleep on the floor. I have a hard enough time watching him leave every night. Tonight will be even worse. Having Celia with us this past week has made it a little easier. Milo’s parents may forget he exists, but Celia has a ten o’clock curfew. Milo shrugs, a hint of a smile ruining his nonchalance. “I practically do. The only time I see my own house is to sleep.” “And that’s how it’s going to stay, right?” I say. He just smiles and gets out of the car. I wait patiently for him to open my door and take his hand. We walk to the door together. Milo already has his keys in hand and opens the door. I honestly didn’t even reach for my own keys. He doesn’t live here, my foot.
