I stood there staring.
Then, I knocked on Kayla’s door.
She opened it with an annoyed expression.
“Kayla, my yogurt’s gone.”
“Are you seriously starting this again?”
“I’m asking.”
“You’re trying to make a problem out of nothing. That’s a you thing.”
“I’m not trying to make anything. My food keeps disappearing.”
She folded her arms.
“Then maybe keep better track of it.”
The conversation ended exactly like the first one, with me somehow defending myself.
Afterward, I started keeping my grocery receipts.
I wish I could say it was because I was building a case against her.
It wasn’t.
I kept them because Kayla was starting to make me wonder if I really was forgetting things.
So I counted.
Five yogurts.
Four protein bars.
Two packages of fruit.
I even took a picture of my refrigerator shelf one Sunday night.
I felt ridiculous doing it.
Mara noticed.
“What are you taking a picture of?”
“My food.”
She raised an eyebrow.
I immediately felt embarrassed.
Mara didn’t push.
I think she assumed Kayla and I were having one of those petty roommate disputes that would eventually burn itself out.
Then, the chicken disappeared.
All four remaining containers.
In one day.
