by Tessi, Zoya
“Tell them he's your new roommate. You can even add that he’s a relative, whatever you think is best.”
“Are you even listening to yourself? A relative? Of mine?” I waved my hand in disbelief, “Just... Look at him! He’s the very image of a jailbird!”
“Sasha, lower your voice and behave.”
“Well, that's not a bad idea. He probably eats little kids for breakfast, so we wouldn’t want to make him angry!”
“I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting like I'm not here,” Alex's deep, only slightly accented voice came from across the room, making me turn as a reflex towards him.
Although he hadn’t raised his voice at all, I definitely felt the hairs begin to bristle on my arms. He still looked totally at ease as he flicked through the channels on the TV, maybe even more relaxed than he had been before. When I opened my mouth to continue my tirade though, he turned and flashed me a menacing stare. This had the desired effect and I bit my lip instead.
Rising very slowly, he approached, studying me like a scientist might a previously undiscovered strain of bacteria. As I was barefoot, the top of my head didn’t so much as reach his shoulders and I was forced to angle my head so as to throw him an angry look, a fact that frustrated me even more.
“Who would have thought such a slip of a girl could be so cranky,” he looked me up and down. “As for eating little children, you’re safe right now. I had breakfast already.”
I narrowed my eyes to look at him, then clenched my jaw before raising one hand to flick him the bird. In return he just arched his pierced eyebrow slightly and turned to Nikolai.
“Don’t worry boss. I'll manage her. This won’t be a problem,” he lifted a large sports bag from the floor next to the couch and headed to the room at the end of the hall.
“What did I do to deserve this?” I hissed when Alex was out of sight and slumped into a nearest chair.
“Oh come on, Sasha! I don’t know why you're making such a fuss. I thought you’d like having someone closer to your age guarding you. It’s better than one of those middle-aged gorilla types. I know how much you hate them.”
“Hah! So instead you brought me a tattooed ogre with a mohawk! If your intention was to frighten off anyone who might wish me harm then trust me, you did a great job. As soon as they set eyes on him they’ll run a mile. I just hope I don’t wet my pants out of fear when I bump into him on my way to the bathroom at nights.”
“That’s enough!” Nikolai brought his hand down firmly on the arm of the chair and gripped it, “Stop acting like a spoiled brat. Alex is here to make sure you live to see your twentieth birthday, not for decorative purposes!”
“You know what ... Go to hell!”
“Don’t talk to me that way! What would your mother say if she could see you now?”
“But she can’t, right?” I shouted and pointed a finger at him, “Thanks to you!”
Jumping up from the chair, I ran to my room, slamming the door as loudly as I could. Collapsing onto the bed, I pulled the quilt up and over my head and tried to hold back the wave of anger that threatened to engulf me. I knew my father loved me in his own unique way, but I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t enough to make him change his ways. That was probably why every short encounter ended this way, in screaming and yelling.
Ten minutes later, I thought I heard someone knocking on my door, so I bent the quilt back across my face and listened. When the knocking came again, I got up, went over to the door and opened it just a little. With his hands in his pockets, Alex was standing at the door giving me a black look. I was pretty sure this guy had never laughed in his life.
“What?” I snapped.
“You OK?”
“Hmm ... let me see. Would you be OK with some assassin roaming around your apartment?”
“I'm not an assassin, Princess.”.
Shooting daggers at me with his eyes, he really seemed serious, and I almost believed him.
“Yeah, right. Just like I’m a prima ballerina,” I shouted before closing the door in his face and going back to bed.
After two hours spent lolling on the bed and gazing into space, I realized that nothing could be gained from hiding away in my room. Careful not to make too much noise, I left my bed and opened the door slightly, scanning the area beyond. Very relieved to find no one outside, moving on tiptoes I went to the kitchen and started preparing coffee.
“So you crawled out of the hole at last,” a voice came from behind me, making me jump.
“Jeez…” I took a sharp intake of breath and brought my hand up to my chest, where my heart was already pounding, “Don’t sneak around behind my back like that. I almost had a heart attack”.
I turned around slowly and was met by Alex’s cold gray eyes as he studied me closely. He was leaning against the doorframe dressed in a pair of dark sweat pants with the waist hung low on his hips, and a simple black t-shirt with short sleeves. It was evident that he’d just come out of the shower, because his hair was damp and tousled, a few strands falling across his eyes, making him look a lot less threatening. Maybe even docile. This despite those dreadful tattoos covering his hands almost completely. I didn’t allow myself to be taken in by this new impression of him, of course. This guy was capable of being anything but docile.
“Coffee?” I offered, trying to sound like it didn’t matter to me one way or the other.
Without taking his eyes off me, he nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. Pretending not to mind his stare, I took two large mugs from the cupboard and poured the coffee, which was about ready. I didn’t like the idea of being alone with him, but it wasn’t going to be possible to avoid him forever, so I thought I’d better try to get used to it soon.
“Listen...” he said in a commanding tone, “I know you don’t like this situation, but trust me, I'm not thrilled by the idea of playing fucking nanny to a spoiled kid either.”
“Spoiled?... You listen up...”
“Shush! No need to act like a victim. Nikolai warned me about your tantrums and your tendency to act all immature. Just to let you know, that shit doesn’t wash with me, so don’t even think of getting ready for another outburst. I came here to do my job and I plan to do it right. Is that clear?”
My hands balled up into fists and I felt the kind of ‘tantrum’ he’d been talking about start to take hold. What gave him the right to talk to me like that? I felt an overwhelming urge to toss the contents of my mug right in his self-satisfied face, but I held back, feeling I’d done enough to tempt fate for one day.
Obviously intrigued by the absence of any reaction on my part, Alex leaned back in his chair and raised one eyebrow questioningly. I forced myself to hold his stare, even though it seemed he could probably read me like a book while I, on the other hand, could learn nothing from his inscrutable face. He probably practiced that face every morning in the mirror.
“Now that we’ve cleared that up, I'll introduce you to some new house rules and you have to respect them. First and foremost, I don’t care whether you’re going to the store, to see your gynecologist or you have a date - you don’t leave the apartment without me. If it occurs to you to sneak out for a rendezvous, think again.”
He paused briefly, as if leaving time for this to sink in. I was truly amazed that the annoying barbarian possessed the ability to form meaningful and complex sentences.
“Second, no talking to strangers. Starting from today, anyone you don’t know, male or female, could be out for blood. If you’re approached or contacted by anyone you don’t know, you tell me right away,” another pregnant pause ensued.
“Third, if I tell you to move or get down on the floor, you’re gonna do it immediately. No questions asked. Otherwise, your pretty little head could be gone in a second.”
I blinked twice, surprised and confused that he’d apparently tossed me a compliment, but then dismissed that possibility. The jerk was only looking for new ways to piss me off.
“Is that
clear?” he looked me full in the face.
“Crystal clear,” I almost choked on the words, “If you're finished with your monologue, I've got stuff to do. I guess you’re in love with the sound of your own voice, but I’m getting pretty sick of it.”
I turned around and started to leave the kitchen with my coffee when a thought struck me and I stopped at the door.
“By the way, there’s a small problem with your outstanding plan to be my ever-present shadow,” I called over my shoulder.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
Putting on a show of looking indifferent, he lifted his legs up onto the chair I’d just vacated and, without paying any attention to me, picked up a newspaper that was folded on the table. It stood to reason that an arrogant asshole like him would not allow for the possibility of being wrong about anything. I had experience of that, Tyler having been a prime example of the bigheaded-arrogant-asshole species.
“Since only students have access to the university building, I’ll be spared your presence for at least part of the day.”
I raised my nose defiantly as I waited for a reaction, but was disappointed when he didn’t so much as bat an eyelid.
“Then it's a good thing Nikolai fixed it in good time for me to be among them. He did have some difficulties in putting me in the same group as you, though.”
Stunned, I just stared at him for a few seconds, wishing I could convince myself this wasn’t true. Going to the store with a monkey on a power kick was enough to throw me off balance, but having a nanny following me wherever I went?
“What?!”
“You heard. From tomorrow we’re classmates.”
“You're too old to be a student. How old are you anyway? Thirty?”
He raised his eyebrows and threw me a loaded stare, letting me know he wasn’t fooled by my bluff.
“I don’t mind if you wanna start calling me ‘Sir’.”
“Hell will freeze over first.”
“Too bad,” he shrugged and went back to leafing through the newspaper. “Anyways, it’s never too late to learn new stuff. Who knows, maybe some of it’ll be useful later on…”
When I heard this I choked and almost spilled my coffee. I glanced at his mohawk ‘do’, his eyebrow ring and his rough features, then my eyes came to rest on his inked arms and hands. He reminded me of the lead singer of a punk band I’d seen a while back, and I started to smile in spite of myself.
“And… did Nikolai tell you what is my major at university?”
“No,” he said, putting the newspaper down, “Why?”
I looked him in the eyes and tried to act serious but it was all so ridiculous that laughter overtook me and I had to cover my mouth as I failed to control it. The cup in my hand was waving around too much, so I set it down on the counter rather than spill its contents all over the floor. The muscles in my stomach started to ache from all the cackling and I leaned my hands against the wall, dropped my head so that I faced the floor and breathed in loudly, trying to recover myself.
“Sorry,” I said when I was able to catch my breath, “I was trying to figure out how that new academic knowledge might be of use to you. Considering your line of work, I mean. Unless Nikolai’s about to branch out.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well... Correct me if I’m wrong, but Art history doesn’t have much in common with illegal arms trafficking.”
Several emotions played rapidly on his features, but the one that emerged above all the others was consternation.
“Art history?” he groaned and slammed his palm down on the table, “Jesus Fucking Christ! I knew there was something the old man was keeping from me.”
I left him cursing his misfortune, and headed back to my room, a wide smile on my face, more amused than I had been for days.
***
I was lying on my bed with my laptop in front of me, trying to concentrate on the paper that was almost due. Re-reading the same paragraph for the fourth time, my mind again turned up a blank. It took most of the little concentration I had to ignore the sounds coming from the living room. Alex was apparently less than pleased at the prospect of faking an interest in art, and with his current assignment in general, given the furniture rattling and the amount of grumbled curses coming from the living room. Since it took more concentration to ignore him than I could actually spare, I decided to go out there intending to teach him some lessons on how to behave.
I found him bent over a dresser, rummaging through its contents and mumbling to himself. The way his body was positioned in relation to mine, it was impossible not to notice the way his low-hung sweat pants clung tight against what had to be the most perfect ass I’d ever laid eyes on.
“What are you doing?” I asked sharply, when I was finally able to move my thoughts away from his behind.
He gave me an angry look from over his shoulder and continued rifling through the drawers, not at all put off by the fact that I’d caught him going through my possessions.
“I’m looking for sheets, that's what I'm doing! I plan on catching some z’s.”
“At four o’clock in the afternoon?”
“While you were asleep last night, I was making the twelve-hour ride here to put my services at your disposal… Princess” he barked and turned to face me.
It hit me that up to this point I’d looked on Alex as an intruder, someone who’d arrived bent on destroying my life, and not really as a flesh and blood person. Annoyed, and feeling sorry for myself, I hadn’t noticed that he actually looked exhausted. I bit my lip as a pang of guilt came over me and I looked away, a little embarrassed. It was clear that neither of us had asked to be in this situation, however mad I might feel.
“They’re over here,” I pointed to one side of my room.
I approached a large mirrored wardrobe and pulled out a set of sheets and some towels. Turning around again, I found him standing in my doorway, studying the contents of my room with interest.
“I’ve never seen so many pink things all in one place. I’m afraid I’ll go blind if I keep my eyes open more than ten seconds…”.
“Well I guess you’re no expert in interior design, so better keep your comments to yourself,” I smirked as I thrust the sheets into his hands.
I didn’t give a damn what a barbarian thought about my room, even if I had arranged everything there myself, down to the last detail. I’d chosen everything personally to make it as snug as it could be. There was a large, wrought iron bed in the middle with pink sheets and covers. To the side was a chest, perfume bottles scattered over its surface, as well as tangled jewelry and some photos in frames. Next to that, a small coffee table with an antique lamp on top and a baroque-style pink armchair. To the left of the bed, and running the entire length of the room, were vast French windows adorned with lavish pink curtains. Well, maybe there was a little too much pink.
“Let’s make you comfortable then,”
I walked past him and headed down the hall towards the room at the end where he already put his things. Since it was never used, that room was pretty basic - just a decent bed, a wardrobe and a chair. I went over to the window and opened it wide to let some air in.
“I’ll hang you some curtains tomorrow”
“No need,” he crossed in front of me and started rummaging through his bag.
“Beth and I use the bathroom down the hall, so this one here will be all yours. That means you need to clean it yourself, just to be clear.”
For a moment or two I watched as he began removing his things, trying to adjust to the idea that a man I barely knew would be sleeping just a few steps away from me.
I’ll start locking my door when I go to sleep.
When he’d finished, he tossed a sheet clumsily across the bed and started removing his t-shirt, as if he’d completely forgotten I was there. I felt myself start to blush as I quickly turned away.
“Don’t go anywhere while I’m asleep,” I heard Alex’s voice follow me, “If you have to
go somewhere, wake me up. Understand?”
I didn’t grace him with an answer, but left the room and pulled the door closed behind me with a thud. When I got back to my room I crept into bed and involved myself in the task of writing my paper, grateful for some peace at last.
Darkness was falling outside and my eyes felt fuzzy after long hours spent gazing at the screen. I didn’t know how much time had passed while I was writing, but the paper was almost finished when the silence was broken by a shrill and piercing scream from the direction of the kitchen.
I leaped out of bed and headed for where the sound had come from, almost colliding with Bethany in the process. She was standing near the entrance to the kitchen, a hand over her mouth and a terrified look on her face. Following her gaze to the source of her anxiety, I almost screamed myself… but whether out of fear or something else I couldn’t say.
Alex was standing by the open fridge, leaning on the door with one hand while holding a carton of milk in the other. And he was wearing just his sweat pants.
I found myself staring in astonishment at the web of interwoven black tattoos covering the entire surface of his chest, continuing around his back and down his arms as far as the knuckles on his fingers. They were scary and magnificent at the same time.
Only when initial shock had passed, I noticed that the black pattern was broken in some places by pale marks. Scars. And there were more than a few. It didn’t take long for me to realize that two round ones, on his stomach and right shoulder, had to have come from bullet wounds.
That bizarre interplay of dark shapes, symbols, tribal patterns, words and scars would make anyone feel disturbed, but his sculpted body, with its perfectly toned muscles, could only leave you breathless in the end. With the ruffled hair, his half-open eyes and that certain aura of pent-up aggression, he reminded me of a model from some stylized, avant-garde Diesel ad. Again, a million little butterflies started twitching in my belly and I wondered whether the bald gorilla might have been a better choice after all.