The apartment was dead silent when Vin walked back in. Hungover, hurt, and angry, it had taken him more like two hours to walk those two miles. Uphill, he thought, viciously, both ways. With a hangover. There ought to be a law against it.
Beau had picked up the laundry and taken it out—the empty basket sat by the door with five quarters for the dryer in a small stack at the bottom. Vin pressed his lips into a reluctant smile. It wasn’t that he expected a lot out of Beau, just…Beau took care of him, and Vin was more than willing to let him.
“I am,” Vin declared to the empty room, “an asshole.” No one argued with him. Beau’s backpack was gone; he’d probably gone to class, Mr. Rules and Regs that he was. Vin walked into the bathroom and snapped on the light. He squinted at himself in the mi
