by Wiley, John
“The first month I think we both made efforts to make sure we saw each other a lot and did things together, but it was becoming more apparent that we were forcing it too much and we had less and less to say to each other. So I started doing things with work people more and he was hanging out with our neighbors, so I didn’t think there was really any animosity. But then Adele started vocalizing the thoughts that I was having and really made me realize…well, believe I guess, that Rhys was turning into a bad roommate that was costing me my life out here.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Like, I felt like I had to babysit him so that he didn’t feel too alone. And Adele saw that. Hearing it come from someone else made me believe it even more. Eventually I did begin to resent him for not making more of an effort to meet people and I stopped returning his calls and texts. And that’s when the shit hit the fan. He got fired –”
“And sexually abused,” she adds.
Erick shakes his head. “I accused him of making it up before I left today. I said he’s bigger than that guy and if he really wanted, he could have stopped it. He’s always been so desperate for a relationship, I honestly believe he wanted to do it and then regretted it and called it rape.”
“Did you say that to him?” Annie asks in horror.
“Not that last part, but it’s true. You know it’s true.”
“I know he wants to find love; I don’t know that I believe you about him wanting it that bad.”
“Well anyway, the growing general annoyance at him added with getting fired and then leaving his keys in the door basically sealed the deal in my mind that he needed to leave. But then I was talking to Gene and he convinced me not to be rash. And then Adele undid all of that. She spent our whole date last night telling me all of the terrible things I had thought about Rhys and by the time I left her apartment today, I had basically decided in my heart that he needed to leave. I was going to let him stay anyway, though, so that we didn’t throw away four years of friendship. But, if there is any chance of us saving this friendship, we need separate spaces before this thing I’m feeling turns into hate.”
Annie shakes her head in disapproval.
“I was going to talk to him in private until I saw Gene sleeping on the roof. Marion showed up last night with no warning and basically kicked Gene out of his home –”
“It’s really nice that you let him stay with you, but have the three of you actually sat down and formally discussed living arrangements? Did you all three officially agree that Gene was living with you?”
“No, but he’s been sleeping on the couch for weeks –”
“But he doesn’t live there; he’s not on the lease. It hasn’t even been verbally agreed upon.”
“It’s still not right that she made him leave.”
“I’m sure Marion didn’t force him from the apartment.”
Erick shrugs. “I just lost it. I yelled at him in front of all of our neighbors and…” he shuts his eyes tight. “I embarrassed myself and Rhys.”
“Make it up to him. Tell him that you don’t really want him to move out.”
Erick shakes his head. “But I do want him to leave.”
“You realize you can’t kick him out? Right? You’re both on the lease, you both pay rent.”
“But I can’t live with him.”
“Maybe you should leave then?”
Erick leans his head back on the couch in frustration.
“Regardless, the two of you need to talk.” Annie’s phone rings from the coffee table again. She picks it up and looks at the screen. “And now’s your chance.” She pushes the accept button on the phone. “Hey, Rhys.”
“Hey. Is Erick with you? His phone is going straight to voicemail.”
“Yeah, he’s here. Do you want to talk to him,” she asks Erick. He shakes his head. “He isn’t ready to talk yet,” she tells Rhys.
“He told you what happened?”
“Yeah. You guys really need to talk.”
“Will you ask him to meet me at Espresso Self?”
“Yeah. I’ll text you when he leaves.”
“Thanks, Fannie Pack.”
“Shut up,” she says lightly. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
She puts the phone back down. “He wants you to meet him at Espresso Self. I assume you know where that is.”
Erick nods. “Yeah, it’s some coffee shop, art gallery, community space just by our apartment.”
“Are you going to meet him?”
“Later. I just need to clear my head for a while first. Want to go for a hike with me?”
“Sure. Just let me get dressed.” She walks to her bedroom to get changed.
“Can you text Rhys for me and tell him I’ll meet him at Espresso Self at five?”
“OK.” She sends a quick message and then gets dressed.
***
Rhys is pacing in front of Espresso Self when he gets the text from Annie. He looks at the time and sees that it’s just 11:00, so he goes home to spend time with his sister until their meeting.
***
Joey pulls his Jeep into a parking spot at the University library and turns off the car. He turns and reaches into the backseat and grabs a bouquet of flowers. He gets out of the car and makes the short walk to the entrance of the library and goes directly to the seventh floor where Cheryl will be studying. Seven has always been her favorite number and she considers studying on the seventh floor good luck, even though it had the least comfortable chairs and the fewest plugs for laptops.
The door opens and Joey exits the elevator on the seventh floor. He takes a quick glance for her but doesn’t see her. He’s never been on this floor; it’s where the early childhood education majors spend a lot of their time - most of the books on this floor are children’s books.
Suddenly a hacky sack flies past Joey’s face, just missing him. He looks the direction it came from and sees a guy running over. “Sorry, dude.”
Joey picks up the ball and tosses it to the guy; this is also the room with the biggest tables which lead to lots of group projects taking place here – projects that can apparently turn into hacky sack tournaments. He walks toward the corner furthest from the action and sees Cheryl at a desk. She has headphones on to block out the noise and is buried in one of her books.
“Hey,” Joey says from behind her. She doesn’t move; the music must be blaring. “Hey,” he says again, this time tapping her shoulder.
Startled, she jumps up and smashes her head against Joey’s mouth as he was leaning down to give her a kiss. “Shit!” she yells.
“What about me?” he says, his hand covering his mouth. “That hurt. I think I’m bleeding.” He moves his hand and Cheryl gasps in horror. She jumps up and runs across the room to the bathroom. Joey tries to look at his reflection in the window but can’t see much with the setting sun shining in. He doesn’t need to see his reflection, however, to see the blood dripping from his mouth and onto his shirt.
“Here,” Cheryl hands him a wad of paper towels. He sits at the desk next to Cheryl’s and holds the towels to his face. “So what are you doing here?” she finally asks. She rubs the top of her head where it hit Joey, checking for blood, but it seems to just be excruciating pain – no blood.
Joey glances at the bouquet on the floor, dropped during his attempt to stop the bleeding. He gets up, mouth still covered, and picks up the flowers and gives them to Cheryl. “Sorry,” he mumbles behind the towel.
Cheryl looks at the flowers; they’re still generally nice looking, despite the adventure they’ve just had. “They’re nice,” Cheryl says. She raises them to her nose to smell but suddenly stops and sets them on her lap.
“What’s wrong?” Joey asks.
“Um, nothing. They’re just…a little bloody.” She points to the yellow rose with red splashed on it.
“Damn,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she says. She puts them on the next desk and leans closer to Joey, k
issing his cheek. “They’re lovely. And I’m sure they were even lovelier before.” She turns them over so the bloody flowers are on the bottom. “But what are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to say that I appreciate you doing this.” He takes the paper towel off of his lip and gently feels it.
“It looks like it’s stopped,” Cheryl says, leaning in to examine it. “It’s swollen though.”
“It’s fine.” They sit in silence for a few beats.
“Well I need to get back to my books –”
“I had no idea you were taking all of these classes for me,” he interrupts. “You should have told me.”
“Why else would I take six classes in one summer?”
“I thought it had something to do with when you changed majors.”
She shakes her head. “I love you, and I don’t want to feel like I’m holding you back from your dreams.”
“And I appreciate that.” He reaches for her hands and holds them in his. “But I really like my teaching job that I have right now; I wouldn’t mind staying here another year while you finish up in school.”
“I wish you would have told me that before I enrolled in all of these classes,” she sighs.
“You should have told me, though. We’ve been together for two and a half years; I thought we were past keeping secrets.”
“It’s not a secret…it’s a surprise!”
He rolls his eyes at her.
“Surprise!” she says meekly.
“If it was a surprise, why did you blow up at me yesterday? Oh wait, is it your lady time –”
“God, Joey, no! I was just a little frustrated that you had fun and I didn’t. I didn’t realize I would miss my summer so much and you were privileged enough to receive the bulk of my anger yesterday.”
“But now that we’ve talked about it you can drop some of your classes, since you know I’m happy here.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs and glances at the mountain of books next to her. “I kind of want to see this through and start the next stage of our lives.”
Joey raises his eyebrows.
“You know…wedding bells…babies…no more beer, just drinking wine with our friends on the weekends…”
“Maybe I’ll reenroll in school,” he says as he stands up. “Med school maybe…that should only take a decade or so…”
“I’m teasing,” she says as she stands up and walks to him. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.
“Wow,” he says when she sits back down. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Why?” she smiles up at him.
“Because you usually get mad at me when I try to hold your hand in public.”
“Well, you deserve a little kiss for putting up with my moodiness the rest of the summer; it’s going to be terrible,” she warns. The hacky sack rolls across the room again. “Plus, these assholes with the God damned hacky sack are pissing me off and hopefully some PDA will make them uncomfortable and they’ll leave.”
“Nah, I thought it was hot,” the guy says as he picks up the ball.
“Agh!” Cheryl screams into a book. “I’m about to break my rule since starting here, and study somewhere other than the seventh floor.”
“Whoa! Don’t be irrational!” Joey laughs. “Just put the headphones back on, and I’ll see you tonight.” He bends over and kisses her cheek. “Text me before you leave and I’ll make dinner.”
“Not pizza,” she insists. “If you offer to make a meal, I want a meal.”
“I can pick up a frozen lasagna on the way home.”
She gives him an incredulous look.
“OK,” he laughs. “I’ll make a homemade one.”
“And monkey bread?”
“Fine,” he sighs, with a smile on his face. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
***
Erick: Can you meet me at the wombat in the digger instead?
Rhys: ok. 5 still?
Erick: yeah
At 5:05 Rhys walks into the Wombat in the Digger. Erick is already there, sitting in a corner booth so he can see all of the comings and goings in the pub. He offers a small wave to Rhys, which is returned as he walks to the booth. “Hey,” Rhys says, sliding into the booth.
“Hey.” Erick drinks from his tall beer, looking at Rhys the whole time.
“So what’s been going on? I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve really just hung out. This reminds me of old times,” Rhys says, alluding back to when they ate here their second night in town, and the similar places they ate at while in college.
“Yeah.”
“OK, this is just too awkward,” Rhys says with a big smile on his face. “You’re my best friend and we’re sitting here like we don’t know anything about each other.
“Well really, what do we know about each other?” Erick asks.
“Challenge accepted,” Rhys says, with a little bow of the head. “You lost your virginity to a girl that looked like Tori Spelling and was ironically named Donna Martin.”
“I never did understand why that was so allegedly ironic.”
Rhys sighs, having explained this hundreds of times. “Donna Martin was the name of Tori Spelling’s character in Beverly Hills 90210!”
“Oh right, you told me that before.”
Rhys shakes his head. “I know that you hate sleeveless shirts but love shorts. Your favorite color is black. Your favorite show is 30 Rock.”
“Yeah, but anyone could know that,” he says.
“Even the Donna thing?”
“I was excited when it happened…I posted it all over my Xanga.”
Rhys sighs. “You felt the need to take care of your family after your older brother died and your parents kind of fell apart; you stepped up to try to take care of them. You have dreams of being in a rock band with your friends from high school.”
“Well that’s not a real dream, just something –”
“That you talk about all of the time,” Rhys finishes. “You’re allergic to peanuts but still eat them since, and I quote they only kill you a little.”
He shrugs.
“Fine, the big secrets. Living in a dorm made you brave enough to poop in public, and Wal Mart has your favorite public bathrooms. You once ran through the back streets of town because you were drunk and peeing in someone’s front yard when the police came up so you started to run. But with your pants around your ankles you couldn’t run fast so you just lost them and ran home in a red t-shirt and that’s all.”
“Oh God, I forgot about that,” he laughs. “And they were only around my ankles because I was trying to button them while running and they slipped.”
“Once you were drunk and you drove into a car at McDonals drive thru. There was no damage so you drove off.”
Erick shakes his head in indication to stop. “Fine, you know a lot about me while we were at school. What do you know about me out here?”
Rhys shrugs. “That you’re a lawyer and you’re dating Adele? That is, the black woman Adele, not the singer.”
“I was wondering how long it would take you to make a joke about her name.”
Rhys shrugs.
“What else?”
Rhys shakes his head. “That’s about it actually.”
“And this is my point; I’ve been trying to reconcile this in my head for weeks now and…I just can’t do this with you anymore, Rhys.”
“This sounds like a breakup.”
“Well if the shoe fits…”
“So you’re not only kicking me out, but you’re ending our friendship? And for what; I don’t know every detail of your life since we moved out here?”
“Can you honestly say that you can’t feel us growing apart?”
“We just need to work on us a little harder, set aside specific roommate time.”
“We’re not kids living in a dorm anymore!” he yells. “Sorry,” he blushes.
Rhys shakes his head. “Fine.” He gets up and walks out of the pub.
&nbs
p; Erick takes the last drink of the beer, drops some money on the table, and runs after Rhys. Once outside he sees Rhys turning a corner, walking at a fast pace. Erick runs behind him, catching up quickly. “Hey, wait,” he says as he tries to catch his breath.
Rhys turns around, surprised to see Erick running after him. “Why would you run after someone that you want out of your life?” There are tears in his eyes that he tries to rub away.
“I didn’t say that I want you out of my life; you didn’t let me finish.”
“OK, fine. Finish,” he says as he takes off down the sidewalk. “Explain to me like I’m stupid, why our friendship is over, because clearly I am stupid if I haven’t seen this coming, right?”
“Fine,” Erick sighs. “The point I was making at the pub is that we don’t know each other anymore. All I know about you is that you got fired from making coffee and accused your boss of rape.”
Rhys opens his mouth to speak, but Erick holds up his hand.
“You said that all you knew was that I was a lawyer and I was dating Adele?”
“Yes.” He turns a corner.
“Where are you going?” Erick asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Anyway, I’m not a lawyer. I might decide to go to law school one day.”
“Oh. I thought you were done.”
“For the time being,” he says with a nod. “And as for Adele…we’re not dating. I told her this morning that I didn’t think we should go out again. She wasn’t happy.”
“Gene’ll be glad for that,” Rhys says with a smile. “He can’t stand her.”
Erick nods. “She’s a bitch.”
“Then why did you go out with her?”
“She’s hot.”
“She’s OK.”
Erick shrugs. “We had a date and it was a disaster, which I admit, is partially my fault.”
“I’m sure it’s mine too,” Rhys sighs. “I don’t know how many times I can apologize to the break in.” He turns another corner.
“You must know where we’re going?”
“I hear music; I’m following it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m mere minutes away from a breakdown, and I need to be somewhere really loud when it happens. Music heals me,” he shrugs. “I don’t care if it’s cliché: music is as good a medicine as laughter.”