by Magan Vernon
“Hey kiddo! How are you doing? I assume the move-in went pretty well?” Dad always had a positive tone to his voice, and it was what I needed at that moment.
“Oh, you know, a little sore from moving all the boxes, but good none-the-less.”
“Yeah, we’re real sorry we couldn’t help. But someone had to take Jordan to practice, and you know how your mom’s sleeping is off with this new work schedule.”
I stared at my hands. “No, it’s totally cool. I was able to handle it.”
“Well, tell me all about it. Do you like your new apartment? Is your roommate nice?”
“Yeah, the apartment is great. It’s really close to my classes and my roommate is cool. I haven’t talked to her much.”
That was an understatement. I didn’t want to tell Dad that she was currently in the living room getting high with her friends. He was worried enough about me moving in with a stranger; I couldn’t add to that.
“That apartment should be pretty swanky for what you’re paying for it. That’s almost double what it would have cost you to live in the Kappa house.”
“I know,” I muttered.
I didn’t want to talk about Kappa. I didn’t inform the Central Chapter that I transferred here and I had no desire to. The less people knew who about me and my life at Taylor College, the better.
“Sorry, kiddo, I’m not trying to lecture you. I know this is what you wanted.”
What I wanted was a new start, not to live with a pothead or to be stalked by a conservative douchebag’s son, who I hated to admit, was giving me butterflies. I wanted to hate Trey. He was so smug, but the way he challenged me was almost more attractive than his emerald green eyes. Now, if he just didn’t have such twisted views on women’s rights we could have something. Then again, that required spending quality time with him. Something I didn’t want to do with anyone of the opposite sex.
“It’s all right, Dad. How is everything else going at home? How’s Jordan?”
Dad let out a breathed whistle. “You know Jordan, typical teenage boy. Football has basically taken over his life, but he hopes to be down with us for a visit in a few weeks.”
I clenched my jaw, even though I knew Dad couldn’t see it. I almost forgot about their planned visit. I would have to have a long talk with my roommate before my parents came to visit. Especially about whom she had over, and what kind of celebrations they were having.
“Yeah, can’t wait for that.”
Dad said something else, but I couldn’t hear him because there was a sound like breaking glass in the living room and a lot of crumpling of papers.
“FIVE OH,” a loud, man’s voice called.
“Is everything all right?” Dad asked.
I sprang up from my seat and opened the bathroom door. “Yeah, I think my roommate just needs to turn down the TV. Just tell Mom I called, and I will talk to you later. Love you, bye.”
I quickly hung up the phone and walked to my bedroom door.
There were muffled voices at the other end, but I couldn’t make it out. I cracked open the door just enough so I could see the front door, but hopefully no one could see me. Sam and Mac stood with their backs to me and two police officers were in our doorway with their hands on their hips.
I couldn’t see where the other people had scrambled to, but I was guessing they were either hiding or just staring dumbfounded.
Sam had her hands in the air and her red dreadlocks were waving around her head. “Man, this is bullshit. We weren’t doing anything to disturb anyone!”
“Ma’am,” the taller of the officers said. “I can smell the cannabis in your apartment.”
“Well you can tell that fucking nark next door that I’m not listening to his daddy’s laws, and calling the Five-Oh on me isn’t going to make me listen anymore.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to step outside, ma’am,” the taller officer said, while the other one slowly drew his hand down toward the holster on his belt. God, I hoped there wouldn’t be shooting.
In the blink of an eye, Sam whipped her head back and shot a big loogie on the taller officer’s face. The other officer quickly responded, grabbing Sam by both wrists, turning her around and handcuffing her. “Samantha James you are under arrest for assaulting an officer.”
He read her the rest of the Miranda Rights, and the taller officer soon had Mac in handcuffs next to her. A big thud came as Samantha’s body was pushed up against the wall, but no other obscenities were yelled. The two officers lead her and Mac out of the room and their footsteps carried down the hall. Soon after, I watched the four other people slowly leave the apartment, carrying all their drug paraphernalia with him.
I breathed a sigh of relief watching them go. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go out there and make them leave. I opened my bedroom door and walked to the front door, locking the deadbolt. I didn’t know if Sam’s dealer or one her other friends would be back, and I couldn’t be too careful. After all that I figured it was time for bed. I had to be up early the next morning for my first day at my new job and maybe needed to spend some time looking for a new apartment. But first, I had to open all the windows and get rid of any other lingering paraphernalia.
I opened the front door a few minutes later and saw that Trey was standing in the hallway on his cell phone. I didn’t want him to see me, so I quickly shut the door and just peered out. I had to get the pot smoke out, but I didn’t want to have another conversation with him. I didn’t know for a fact that he turned Sam in, but if he did, I couldn’t imagine what kind of fire she would have lurking in her when she got back.
***
A loud, clanging sound knocked me out of my sleep. I grabbed my phone from my night stand and saw that it was only two in the morning. I hoped that wouldn’t be a usual occurrence, and maybe it was just someone partying down the hall.
The clanking stopped and was replaced by a loud thud from the living room. I sat straight up in bed. Was I being robbed?
“Not going to answer the door for me, you pretentious maggot? Stupid governor’s son!” Sam’s voice carried over the room.
She shoved open my door and stood there. I could only make out her silhouette by the light streaming in from the living room windows.
“Is everything okay?” I managed to stutter.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she snarled. “Fucking Chapman narked on me, and now he won’t answer his door to face me.”
She stomped through my bedroom until she was at my far wall. The wall that was attached to Trey’s apartment. She pounded both fists against the wall, making my desk shake that was sitting against it. “You hear me! You don’t own me ya fuckin’ elephant ass! I don’t care how many secret service men you have. I will tear you up!” Somehow she knew it was Trey? How? It could have even been me that called the cops. Not that it was. But I think she just needed another reason to take her anger out on our neighbor.
I just stared at her for a minute while she continued to pound and yell. Then I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t going to sit by and watch my roommate go psycho. I threw the blankets off of me and ran from the bed to where Sam stood. I grabbed both her wrists, mid-pound, and turned her to face me.
Her teeth were clenched together, and her eyes were wild like some sort of feral child. “What the—”
“Shut up! Just shut up!” I yelled, tightening my grip on her wrists and shaking them. “This is not your room, and you’re not the only one living in this apartment.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but I interjected. “Don’t even start with me. I have to be up for work in a few hours, and I will not put up with this shit while I’m living here.”
I took a step toward her and then shoved her in the direction of my door while still keeping her wrists in my grasp. “You will not come in to my room unannounced again, and you will not have your stoner friends over here to get high in our living room, or I will make sure that you get kicked off this campus. Do I make myself clear?”
&nbs
p; I had at least a foot on the girl, and I doubt she would throw a punch. She was all bark and no bite. If I learned anything in my Political Science classes it was if you confronted someone, face to face, they usually backed down if they had nothing to defend themselves with.
She nodded and I pushed her out of my room, slamming the door and locking it. I didn’t hear any more noise from the living room. I put my ear buds in to drown out any potential noise and attached them to my phone, so I could still hear my alarm. The soft sounds of Bach flooded my ears, and I let my mind wander.
I didn’t know whether to be angry at Trey for reporting my roommate, if he actually did, or if I would actually need to thank the guy. But the latter would probably go to his head more than I would have liked.
Chapter 3
I woke up early the next morning and didn’t hear Sam at all. She was probably still sleeping off whatever hangover that pot left. I got ready for work, grabbed my keys, and slinked out of the apartment hoping not to run into Trey in the halls. I hated to think what he thought of my roommate’s outburst, or worse, if he thought that I was the one smoking pot and banging on his wall.
Brewster’s Beans was the coffee shop in the student center. It was only a short hike of a few blocks from my apartment, and since it was super early on a Sunday, absolutely no one was on the quad. I didn’t instantly fall in love with Central when I visited it the first time. It didn’t have the urban feel that Taylor did with its close proximity to Chicago, but Central had a quaint vibe of its own.
It had a student population that topped 15,000, but with all the main buildings surrounding a centralized, grassy quad it felt more like a small school. As long as my classes were big enough that I didn’t need to stand out, I would be fine.
I crossed in front of the science building and made it to the student center that was connected by a pedestrian bridge to the four-story library. The student center was just as empty as the rest of campus. The smoothie shop and campus store were both closed on the first floor. It was like a ghost town with no one running the shops and not a student in sight.
Quickly, I made my way down the stairs; going past a few meeting rooms and ended up at the back door to Brewster’s Beans. There was a narrow, tile passageway, and when I got to the end of it I was greeted by mounds of coffee bags and a large, steel door. It opened widely and out popped a girl in the regulation uniform: black baseball cap, black apron, black pants, and red polo shirt. She was carrying a large tray of scones, and I couldn’t help but recognize the mound of curly, brown hair from the back.
“Melanie!”
She jumped, but the scones stayed on the tray. Melanie slowly turned around with a big smile on her face. “Hey, Mon, almost didn’t think you’d show up.”
“Of course I’d show,” I said, following her through the back room to one of the giant ovens she placed the trays in. “It’s the least I could do after you got me this job.”
Melanie went to high school with me, but we really got close the summer after high school when we both worked horrible nanny jobs for the brattiest kids in town, who also happened to be neighbors. We bonded by taking them to the same park every day and sitting on the bench while they ran off their energy or just inflicted it on other unsuspecting kids. I called her as soon as I knew I was transferring, and she set me up with a job.
“You’re just lucky that normal people don’t like the early shifts. You could almost get full-time hours if you just took every morning slot.” Which I could possibly need if I had to pay for an apartment by myself.
I nodded, following her out of the back room and into the main area of the store. Brewster’s Beans was the only coffee shop on campus and was full of bistro tables, brightly colored couches and over-stuffed chairs for study spaces. Everything was decorated in the school colors of red and black, even the long counter with shelves of red bags of coffee sitting above all the machinery.
“I guess you’re not much of a partier, either.” She smiled, pouring a bag of coffee beans into the giant grinder, pressing a large, silver button, and then collecting the grounds in a big filter.
“There are better ways I can think of to spend my Saturday night.”
Like having an impromptu dinner with a governor’s son and watching my roommate get busted for pot.
“I think we’re going to get along just fine as co-workers,” she said, placing the full filter in one of the large coffee brewers and moving a big carafe underneath it.
“So, is it usually going to be this busy in the morning?” I looked around at the empty room.
Melanie shrugged. “It’s the first weekend of school. You may get a few stragglers in around eight and then on week days it should get a little more crowded before class.”
I didn’t realize just how empty it would be until we actually started working. We didn’t get a single customer until after I’d already been there two hours, and by that time, I had learned to make every drink on the menu and filled all six carafes of coffee that sat on the counter. Of course, the first customer was just looking for the bookstore and didn’t buy anything. It wasn’t until ten that we started to get quite a line.
I stood at the register, wrote the drinks on a cup, and took the money while Melanie went through making the drinks. The ten o’clock person didn’t show up, so Melanie asked if I could stay until noon. I agreed, knowing that I wasn’t exactly sure what I would have waiting for me at my apartment.
“Why, hello, Miss Remy, it’s a pleasure seeing you here.”
I looked up to see the smug smile of Trey Chapman and next to him stood a moose of a guy with choppy, brown hair and Greek letters across his chest.
“I didn’t realize that cockiness got up this early,” I said, not able to keep my sarcasm in check.
There was no one in line behind him, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse to get him to move on and obviously he didn’t care that I was working.
“I was up early; someone was banging on my bedroom wall at two this morning.”
I blinked hard. “Um, that wasn’t me. That was my roommate.”
He slammed on the charm. “I figured you would have a better vocabulary than she does. I noticed how fluent she was in cursing when she was getting arrested.”
I sucked in a deep breath. At least he knew it wasn’t me, but I also didn’t know our bedroom walls connected. My mind drifted to thoughts of where his bed was, and if he was a boxers-or-briefs type of guy. I quickly had to shake the visions out of my head. It had been months since I had any sexual thoughts about a guy. Not that I was turning into a lesbian, but it was like a switch went off, and I had no interest. Now it was as if someone was slowly turning on the dimmers and I was squinting, trying to find my way back to the light.
“Is this the lib you were telling me about?” The moose guy asked.
“The lib?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, John Boy, this is Monica. She’s my new neighbor who tells me that I need to do some research on women’s rights, but hasn’t told me how she plans on helping our depressed economy.”
“Oh, hey, Lib.” John Boy smiled and waved a thick hand.
“Monica, this is my big brother, John Boy. We were just meeting for coffee to talk about some fraternity business, but if you want to join me for a croissant after your shift I would be happy to tell John Boy to find something else to occupy his time.”
I rolled my eyes. The self-righteousness oozed off of Trey. I wondered if other girls fell for his charm so easy. I hated to admit that there was something about challenging him that I really enjoyed, but I couldn’t get past the dress shirts, belted dress pants, and the major fact that his dad thought every girl should just go without birth control.
“I think I’ll take a pass. Some of us actually have to work. But you probably already knew I was working here and conveniently made it your meeting place of choice.”
Trey flashed his political smile. “I assure you I had no idea this was your place of employment. It’s good to se
e that someone who lectures me on the depressed economy happens to be gainfully employed.”
I put my hand to my chest. “And us little people thoroughly enjoy how you talk to us. So proper. I don’t know what a little ol’ middle-class girl like me would do without your help.”
“It’s good to see that you see the humor in the way I choose to talk, Miss Remy.”
“And it’s good to see that someone with such a large stick shoved u—”
“Monica!” Melanie elbowed me in the side. “I understand that you have a friend here, but I do believe you should finish taking his order before we get another line.”
I bit my lip to restrain what I really wanted to say. “He’s not my friend. He’s just my neighbor, the beloved governor’s son, Trey Chapman.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Melanie is it?” Trey put out his hand and shook Melanie’s, briskly. “At least that is what your name tag says.”
“Um…yes…yes it is Melanie.” She moved her hand away and stared at him, with her eyebrow raised and her lip slightly curled, as if she was trying to figure him out. I was trying to figure out the same thing. Exactly what was with the governor’s son?
“Are you going to order? Or will you leave me standing here, like I’m sure your dad has done to plenty of union workers,” I asked with extra snark.
Melanie elbowed me again in the ribs. Trey opened his mouth to say something, but John Boy interrupted.
“Okay, that’s enough political talk. I’m hungover as shit and need a large coffee and a glazed donut.”
“One large drip and a glazed donut,” I said through gritted teeth. “And for you, Trey?”
“Besides another date with you?” He leaned in on the counter. He had smug written all over his face. No matter how much I argued with him, he just couldn’t stop.
“We never went on an actual date. You showed up where I was eating. It’s just like you are doing now.” I sighed. “Now please just order something off the damn menu.”
“Okay, I can see when your patience is running low. I’ll just take a large coffee as well and maybe a croissant, and a walk with you for later.”