If Second, Chacha, Atlas, and Slater were emotional responses, Lola would say the twins were traumas. The moment they barged into her life, they invited quite a few more to the party: Atlas as Anxiety, and Slater as Panic Attack.
At this point, she was just scared of what or who would be next.
"I like this room."
Leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed, she watched Slater tour a room. He had already checked a few because he was "very particular."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "This is your brother's room."
Slater frowned, facing her squarely. "So?"
"So, this room is not available—like I said ten seconds ago." She stressed each word through gritted teeth, watching him narrow his eyes. "There are plenty of rooms in here, Slater. Choose one that isn't occupied, okay?"
With that, she pushed off the jamb and was about to turn and leave him alone.
"Where are you going?"
She cocked her head back and gave him a defeated look. "Work."
