12
They were approaching her neighborhood, her street, her apartment. An uninvited thought of Mat inside her apartment crossed Ava’s mind. She had never, since moving in, had a friend over. Not even Jaime. She allowed the possibility to wash over her. It would be very yellow of her, inviting a friend upstairs, spontaneously. The thought excited and terrified her. Not even the building’s super had seen her immaculate kitchen, her minimalist furniture, the cozy alcove where she slept. She’d begun describing the studio to Mat on their drive. ‘It could pass for a miniature STÄDA showroom,’ she said. ‘I could count the things that aren’t STÄDA on one hand.’
He pulled alongside the curb and put the car in Park. The prospect of inviting him upstairs hung above her, out of reach. ‘Thanks,’ she s
