Matt ripped a frozen pizza from my hands and tossed it in the trash.“Matt,” I whined. “I’m starving—”“Then I’ll make you something to eat,” he said. “You can’t put that garbage in your body—”“That garbage is what I lived off of for sixteen years before coming to this house,” I said. “It hasn’t killed me—”“Yet.”I rolled my eyes and slumped into the barstool at the center island. I watched as Matt made his way through the kitchen, stopping at the refrigerator to pull out a celery stalk and carrots before opening the cupboard to retrieve a simmering pan, two pots, and a handful of utensils.Much to the surprise of everyone who knew him, Matt jumped right back into his normal routine after the Oakland PD carted Hannah—his unofficial girlfriend—off to jail. I, more than anyone, expected him to go into shock, break down, and completely exclude himself. But he didn’t; Matt only spent a day or two in the dumps. In no time at all, he’d picked himself up, brushed it all off, and moved on as though nothing ever happened.“Just a heads up,”
