I yawn as I wander from the elevator into Arrick’s apartment, covering my mouth and dropping my oversized school bag on the floor by his coat rack in the entrance dumping ground for shoes. His jacket and sneakers are already there, and I can hear the soft strumming of a guitar as I wander around the little wall that conceals the elevator from his lounge area.

He is sitting on the couch strumming his acoustic guitar, oblivious to my arrival, and I stop and watch him for a moment with ...