Chapter 2: Welcome to the Windy City

The summer after my sophomore year of college, my parents set off on a bucket-list road trip, so I ended up staying at my brother’s place in Chicago. Their minivan was already halfway to the Grand Canyon before I’d even finished packing.

My brother was at work, but I knew the door code. His apartment complex always smelled like takeout—deep dish pizza, maybe—and laundry detergent. The elevator creaked and rattled the whole way up, like every old building in the city.

Dragging my suitcase, I opened the door and immediately heard someone inside snarking:

“Why not let your imaginary little brother take the controller for once?”

“I mean, you could just respawn and try again.”

A familiar voice—a mix of sarcasm and challenge, sharp enough to cut through the AC’s low hum.

I froze, suitcase half-inside the door. I recognized it instantly.

It was him.

Ryan Carter—my brother’s close friend. They’ve been tight since middle school, practically inseparable through all the awkward phases. I always knew they were close, but I never expected him to actually be living in my brother’s apartment. My heart did a somersault. Living under the same roof as my secret crush? That wasn’t in the summer plan.

Ryan went pro in esports back in high school, and now that he’s retired, he’s a Twitch streamer. Sometimes I still can’t wrap my head around seeing him on ESPN highlight reels and now, streaming in sweats from the upstairs bedroom.

That voice—he must have been streaming and roasting his teammates. The whole world could be listening, and he still wouldn’t hold back.

I understood immediately, because I watch his streams every day. Even when I say I’m studying, sometimes his voice is playing quietly in my headphones. Like white noise, but way more chaotic.

I’m his number one fan.

No one knows. I’d never admit it, not even under threat of TikTok exposure.

I quietly moved into the room my brother had set up for me. It was still decorated in pink and white, cozy and full of stuffed animals. There was even a throw pillow shaped like a donut on the bed—he really tried to make it feel like home.

I didn’t plan to disturb him, but before I finished unpacking, someone knocked on my door. The knock was casual—almost impatient, like he expected me to answer faster.

I turned and saw Ryan leaning lazily against the open door, his long eyes sweeping over me. “Didn’t you say you’d get here tonight?”

Apparently, my brother had told him in advance, but didn’t tell me. Classic older brother move—keep everyone else in the loop except his actual sister.

For some reason, I always feel a little guilty around him.

Maybe it’s because I like him. Or maybe it’s the way he always looks at me—like he’s trying to solve a puzzle I can’t see.

“All my roommates left, so I changed my ticket.”

I’m a little socially anxious, but I like being around people I know. The idea of rattling around a half-empty dorm all summer made my stomach twist.

Ryan glanced at his phone. It was three o’clock—prime time for his afternoon caffeine fix or a power nap, but here he was.

He raised his eyebrows. “Hungry?”

He’s always treated me like a little sister, just like my real brother does—always looking out for me. Sometimes I wish he’d see me differently, but I’ll take what I can get.

I nodded. “I’ll just order DoorDash later.”

He scoffed, “Your big brother Ryan is right here, and you still want takeout?”

“You can cook?” My eyes lit up in surprise, half-skeptical. The only thing I’d ever seen him make was a mess of Cheetos dust and soda cans.

Ryan lifted his chin. “Hang tight.”

He disappeared into the kitchen, and soon the sizzle of garlic hitting butter filled the air. The smell reminded me of late-night diners after finals week, and I stood in the doorway with my mouth hanging open. I guess I had a lot to learn about Ryan Carter.