Chapter 11
Drew, 2003
Sweat was pouring down my face as the summer sun beat down on me. My back ached from packing and lifting boxes. Two moves in the matter of a few months was taking a toll on me.
“Where do you want this box labeled ‘miscellaneous’?” Quentin was standing in the middle of my new living room, holding the box in question.
I set the box in my arms on the couch and wiped the sweat from my brow. “You can leave it there.” I pointed to the coffee table between us.
“We should be almost done, right?”
“Quentin, you know you didn’t have to help me move, I could have taken care of it myself.” One of the many arguments we’d had over the past two weeks.
“I told you; I want to help. Besides, if I left it up to you, you’d still be sleeping on my couch.”
“Look, I’m sorry—”
“No mo
