Barry froze in the doorway, suitcase still in hand. "Yo... you got a girl?"
Tami froze too, caught like a raccoon mid-heist, her hand halfway buried in James's drawer. Her eyes darted like she was scanning the room for the emergency escape button. "Uh... I was looking for the bathroom."
James's whole body did a double-take. He shoved past Barry like he was glitching. "Huh? What the hell—Tami?"
She stood up like nothing was weird. "Oh hey. You know my name. That's cute."
James blinked hard. "Someone... someone told me."
From behind, Barry was already cackling. "Yeahhh, bro totally stalked her."
"I know, right?" Tami threw in, shameless.
"Shut up, Barry" James snapped, but his brain was still buffering. "Nah, seriously—what the fuck is she doing in my room?"
Tami tried a smile that wasn't smiling. "I was just... you know... looking for ice cream. Totally normal behavior, James"
"She knows my name too!" James pointed at her like he just cracked a conspiracy. "Who's the stalker now, huh?!"
Barry suddenly held up a hand like a traffic cop. "Wait. Wait. Both of you. Nobody move. Nobody speak. Don't. Say. Another. Fucking. Word." He turned around and calmly walked to the kitchen.
"What's he doing?" Tami asked, half-whispering, still frozen like a broken game sprite.
James just shrugged, overwhelmed.
Barry came back with a full-ass bowl of popcorn like this was Netflix. He sat right on James's bed, leaned back, and tossed a kernel in his mouth. "Aight. You may continue."
Tami blinked. "Is he for real?"
James waved his hand. "Don't bother. He lives for this kinda shit." He turned back to her. "Now, ice cream? You thought I had ice cream just chillin' in my bedroom?"
"I thought maybe..." she said with a deadpan face, like she was defending herself in court.
"I don't even eat ice cream."
"Oh," she said, inching back toward the window like this was her cue. "Well, in that case.... I'll just be on my way then."
James stepped forward. "Oh hell no. You don't get to crawl in like a raccoon and dip like a ninja."
Tami put her hands up. "Okay, okay. But I swear I'm not a weirdo."
Barry, munching, pointed the popcorn bowl at her. "Too late. You're both weirdos. This whole thing is weird. And I love it."
***
"Aight so lemme get this straight," Barry said, popping a kernel in like he was the court judge in a reality show trial. "You, Tami, walked up to James… didn't even ask for his name… and just took his number? In church?"
Tami glanced sideways, shrugging. James scratched his head, defeated.
"Yeah... seems about right" they both muttered.
Barry blinked like he was buffering. "And what's more… you didn't text him like a normal, law-abiding citizen. You sent him an anonymous message 'I know what happened that night' like you were a Scooby-Doo villain. As. A. Prank."
"Hey," Tami protested, half-offended, half-guilty.
Barry held up his hand like a preacher. "Don't interrupt. This is the gospel of weird behavior. I mean… that's the literal definition of red flag. But hey, considering it's James, you kinda match. Congrats, you both got the same brand of bizarre."
James folded his arms. "Not like she was wrong. I was suspicious."
Barry turned to him like bro. "Yeah, because she sent you a horror movie trailer in text form. Of course you got curious. Started investigating like you were in a side quest. But guess what? She noticed you didn't reply, thought you were the weird one, right? So she decided, 'yeah, time to stalk him instead.'? Like bruh."
Tami tried to defend herself. "I just—he didn't have any info online. No socials, no digital footprint. Who even lives like that??"
"So naturally," Barry continued, "instead of moving on like a normal person, you assumed he had a diary. A diary, fam. What is this, 1920? Who still has paper secrets?? So you broke into his apartment to find it. No notes, no hesitation. Just straight up CIA infiltration."
James pointed at her dramatically. "Just cuz I'm quiet, now I'm some shy anime boy with a tear-stained journal? Girl, c'mon. Who doesn't censor his socials"
"Censor??? Only every normal person. Look I was just curious, okay?" Tami said, arms folded. "You were giving... mysterious loner energy. It was weirdly hot."
James scoffed. "Weirdly hot? You tried to emotionally catfish me, broke into my place, and now you wanna say it's vibes?"
"But you still wanna show her your real account though?" Barry cut in. "Like… didn't she just try to Sherlock Holmes your entire existence?"
"Yeah, it's all good" James replied, already unlocking his phone. "She put in effort. Can't hate that."
Barry stared. "Y'all are unhinged. Beautifully, unapologetically unhinged. I feel like I'm in an indie Netflix show called 'Emotionally Damaged but Kinda Hot.'"
"Gimme your phone" James said to Tami. "I'll show you my real account. Where I'm actually funny."
Tami handed it over. "This better not be memes of frogs in suits again."
"No promises."
Barry just shook his head, finishing the popcorn. "Y'all are the weirdest couple that's not even a couple. I love it here."
Barry's phone buzzed. Then Tami's. A shared pause. A look.
"You get that?" Barry asked. "Yeah," Tami said, already half-smiling. "You going?" Barry scoffed like it was the dumbest question in the world. "Am I going, she said. Of course I'm going."
James blinked. "Wait. Going where?" Tami pulled at the hem of her hoodie. "You think I can go like this?" "Yeah, you're good, whatever" Barry muttered, eyes still on his screen.
"No. No-no. What's that? What's happening?" James cut in, pointing at both of them like a detective in a bad crime drama. "Don't act like I know what you're talking about. This isn't a Netflix original. Someone talk to me. Now."
Tami turned to Barry. "Wait. He doesn't know?" James raised both hands. "Okay. I told you not to do that. The whispering. The vague looks. That's exactly what I meant."
Barry snorted. "He sure doesn't"
"Know what?". James asked, voice cracking like he was about to uncover a murder.
Barry looked at Tami like this was Christmas morning. "He doesn't know."
"You really don't know about Book Club?" Tami added, wide-eyed. Barry threw his hands up. "Bro's been living under a rock. A big-ass Ivy League rock."