You don't know how lovely you are. (Coldplay)

“Hi,” said William when I opened the door.

“Hi,” I huffed.

“I’ve got rent.” He said as though it was a victory. He handed me the envelope stuffed with the dull green bills him and Nicky had drawn together.

“Thanks.”

He put his forearm on the doorframe and leaned in. It was overdramatic and I couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t preparing for a role on some soap opera or something.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I gulped. I didn’t mean to gulp. That didn’t usually happen to me as I spoke but there I was – gulping mid-sentence. I bet he thought it was because of his slick little lean-in. He looked into me with really intense blue eyes. My frown turned to a giggle as I imagined him practicing this look in front of his mirror. But then I thought of the scene in front of my mirror a moment before. My frown reappeared.

“Honey,” he said. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?” I kept forgetting he was British. He looked very American. He looked like an ugly surfer, born and bred in California.

I stepped back and he accepted the cue to come in. I locked the door. I didn’t know why but it just happened to lock in one natural motion.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it Nicky?”

“No. Why would it have anything to do with him?”

He looked toward the floor. “No reason.”

“What?”

“I love Nicky,” he began. “He’s my best friend. He’s a great roommate, a great guy but I just don’t know if he is completely, well, respectful of you.”

Will had hit a nerve.