It is so completely chaotic in Maryann's kitchen, with Aristo pawing around, the Bluetooth speaker playing Taylor Swift, us laughing maniacally over a recipe for lemon chicken, that the doorbell doesn't register the first time.

Then it comes again. Somehow sounding more urgent.

"I'll go get it." I announce. "You get Aristo out of the kitchen." I tell Maryann. That's kind of an impossible task. Aristo is a bitch. He has no empathy. He does whatever the fuck he wants. I love him. He reminds me of my sister.

The doorbell rings again, and I yell, "I'm coming, jeez!"

I open the door.

"Uckh." I say.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hughes plows inside, making me walk backward as he bullies his way into my space.

"Excuse me? You're the one who's breaking and entering." I say spitefully.

Hughes makes a face. "What."

"You broke boundaries. I didn't say you could enter, but you still did. That's breaking and entering, bitch."

Maryann has joined the conversation, having come up behind us. She mutters, "Oh, sweet Jesus."

"Don't call me a bitch, Sabine. You're the one who's acting like a jerk. I can't focus on anything because all I can think about is your stupid, angry face."

"My face isn't stupid, jackass! You're the stupid one. Who do you think you are, coming – "

"Hey, let the man come in at least!" Maryann interrupts. "Close the fucken' door, too – it's cold as hell." She turns back around, heading for the kitchen.

Hughes turns away momentarily to shut the door. He faces me again, and I make my best bitchy face. My arms are folded over my chest. I'm so ready to pull his hair out.

Hughes just looks at me. He's breathing heavily. His nose is pink. He looks so cute. I just want to hug him.

"Why are we fighting?" He asks me. He sounds tired and sad.

"I don't know." I say in a more controlled tone.

"Can we fix it?"

I don't say anything to that. "Do you want to come sit?" I ask instead.

He nods. I walk down the hallway, into the living room. I sit on the armchair he sat on the other day. He takes a seat by the dining table. The coffee table is between us.

"Is Maryann cooking?" Hughes asks as soon as we settle.

"Yeah. We both were. Trying to. I suck at it. She air-fries everything."

Hughes cracks a small grin. He looks down, then back up at me. "I can cook."

"I know." I say.

"Remember when you called me to teach you how to make tea?"

I nod. "I probably asked you dozens of times."

"Yeah, you have, like, a shit memory."