Grabbing a pen, she writes something beneath my note and tosses it back.
I wrote, Hey, Blondie, want to know a secret?
Her reply, If it’s that lemon Starbursts are actually good, that’s a lie, not a secret.
I can’t study. I’m too distracted by you, I add to our ongoing written conversation. Reaching over the top of her laptop I drop the note onto the keyboard.
She sighs, glaring at me before she picks up the note and unfurls it.
Scrawling a hasty note she throws it back to me.
That’s what other tables are for. But I’m secretly glad to know you’re hot for me, Mr. Popular.
I grin. But if I move to another table I’ll still only be thinking about you. I can see her glaring at me as I write, so I finish with, I’ll stop now because I do need to study too.
I pass the note back to her and she reads it. “You better,” she mouths.
I refocus on my textbooks, grabbing my own laptop to write up a paper that’s due way too soon.
Like, tomorrow.
It’s a good fucking thing I work best under pressure.
Another hour or so passes and a shadow falls across the table.
I look up and find Danika leaning against the edge. I haven’t encountered her since she showed up with her house-warming present and that’s partly because I’ve been avoiding her. If I spot her, I’m hauling ass in the other direction. She needs to keep her panther claws firmly away from me. Last I heard, she hooked up with Kit at my birthday party. As far as I see it, those two are made for each other.
“Can I help you?” There’s a bite to my tone I don’t normally have. Even if I don’t like someone I’m usually nice. My parents taught me not to spread around hate, because it only breeds more. It’s words I’ve learned to live by.
Her tongue slides out, wetting her too pink lips, and her denim mini-skirt slides up her thighs as she presses further against the table, lowering her torso so her breasts are practically in my face. The warmth of summer is still hanging on, but barely, not nearly enough to merit her skimpy outfit.
This kind of getup on a woman used to drive me wild. Not anymore. I’ve found a person who sparks those things in me. I don’t need a sexy outfit to do it for me.
Across the table I sense Lou paying attention, and even though she leaves her headphones on, I’d bet anything she’s not listening to music right now.
“Haven’t seen you in a while.” She skims the nail of her index finger over the top of my right hand. I jerk it away, dropping my hand under the table and out of her reach.
“No, you haven’t.” It’s all I’ll give her.
“It’s a shame. We have fun together.” Her eyes slide toward Lou, whose eyes have narrowed and pink stains her cheeks.
“What fun?” I’ve never been able to tolerate her presence, and her acting like it’s the opposite in front of Lou is pissing me off. It’s like she wants to mark her territory, only I’m not hers.
Her fake smile falls a little. “Abe, don’t be silly.”
It grates on my nerves how she wants to call me Abe. Nobody calls me Abe. Ever. I don’t fucking like it.
“Danika,” I echo her tone, “don’t be silly.”
Her mouth screws into a pout, which looks ridiculous and childish. “Have fun with your overweight frumster.” She eyes Lou’s sweatshirt and jeans combo. “When you’re done with whatever this phase is, let me know.”
I grab her wrist before she can take two steps away and she stops, a winning smile on her face.
“Don’t you ever say anything like that about my girlfriend again.”
With an irritated sigh, she rips her arm from my hand and storms away, her hair swishing behind her shoulders like an inky dark curtain.
Lou stands up and begins gathering her stuff. “I want to go,” she announces, and the dejection visible in the slouch of her shoulders and the softness of her voice breaks my fucking heart.
“Okay.” Packing up my stuff, I take her hand and we leave.
* * *
“When I said I wanted to go, I meant home, not here.”
“Come on, you can’t say no to crepes. It’s our thing, Lou.”
Her bottom lip pops out a little, and unlike Danika’s ridiculous pout I know Lou is considering what I’ve said.
“Fine, but my fat ass still wants some fancy cookies.”
I grin in response, glad to see some of her humor returning even if her blue eyes are a little sadder than normal.
“Stay here.” I jump out of my truck and run inside Oh, Crepe, ordering our food as quickly as possible. I wait off to the side for our order and as soon as it’s ready I take the plastic bag of to-go boxes from Ines, waving to Michel in the back.
Lou has the window rolled down, her feet sticking out of it with her white Converse hanging loosely on her feet since she undid the laces as soon as we got in the car.
I slide back inside the truck and she rights herself, rolling up the window.
“Gimme those thin pancakes. Never thought I’d like them, but they’re almost as good as fancy cookies and Starbursts.”
I chuckle, handing her the bag to hold as I buckle up. “Fancy cookies, thin pancakes, what’s next?”
“No idea.” She rifles through the bag. “But I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
“I figured we could go home and eat.”
“That sounds nice.” She wraps her arms around the bag, like she’s trying to protect it.
I pull out onto the street and near the stoplight when she says in an eerily calm voice, “What. Is. That?”
“Huh?” I look out the windshield, finding nothing. Since I can make a right on red and nothing’s coming, I do, still not sure what caused her question.
“There’s something crawling in your truck and I don’t know what it is. I have a feeling we’re both going to die, though.”
I look over at her and find nothing. “What?”
“Right there.” She points and my eyes land on a giant ass wasp crawling over the dashboard.
Suddenly it takes flight, landing on the steering wheel as I slam on the brakes.
Lou screams, or maybe that shrill sound is coming from me, and then the wasp takes flight again and I can’t see it.
“Put your window down!”
Both of us frantically crank the windows down.
“Where’d it go?”
“I don’t know,” Lou whispers, moving her eyes and not her head to search for the bug.
“I have to drive. Don’t let it kill me.”
“No promises. If it flies out of nowhere I’m ducking and rolling out of here.”
She’s not even kidding, and I know it.
I ease to a stop at another stoplight. We’re only a few blocks from the apartment, nearly in the clear.
“I think it’s gone.” Lou breathes an audible sigh of relief.
My eyes scan the truck. “I don’t see it either.”
We both look at each other. “Should we put our windows back up?”
“I don’t know,” she nibbles on her lip, “what if it’s still in here, waiting for us to do just that?”
“True.”
“But it could be gone, and then something else could get in.”
Both of us hasten to roll the windows up.
Reaching the apartment, I park the truck and exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Bugs don’t generally freak me out, but I got stung by a bee when I was six and it was a traumatizing experience. I’ve hated all of those flying fuckers since.
Lou reaches for her door and—
“Fuck!” I scream as the wasp races out of one of the air vents, flying straight for my face.
“Hi-yah!”
I wince when her hand collides with my face—and the wasp—bug guts getting all over my face and her hand.
“Oops,” she says in a small voice. I blink my eyes open, which had closed in reflex, and find she looks apologetic but also like she�
�s tempted to bust out laughing. “That happened a little more aggressive than I intended … but at least it’s dead, right?”
“There are bug guts on my face.”
“But I saved you.” The words sound like a song and she does a little dance for good measure.
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh.
This ranks pretty high on the list of funniest things to ever happen to me.
I’m not one bit surprised Lou is involved.
“Grab your thin pancakes and fancy cookies. I need to wash my face before I stuff it.”
Cradling the bag to her chest as she climbs out of my truck, I follow her around the side of the building to the front, giving chase so she runs, her laughter trailing behind her.
I think the wasp, while annoying, did the job of getting her to forget Danika. I’m grateful for that. I don’t want her worrying about some insignificant woman like Danika.
Lou is incomparable to any other woman.
She’s the person I’ve been searching years for, when I didn’t even know I was looking.
I grab her ass when she has to stop outside the door to unlock it.
“So handsy.” She swats me away, nearly dropping the food in the process.
The door swings open and I lock it behind us. She drops the bag on the counter and grabs a paper towel, dampening it and coming over to me to wipe my face free of bug intestines.
“There, all better.” She’s standing on her tiptoes, her sapphire hues staring into the deepest parts of me. It’s on the tip of my tongue, the urge to tell her I’m in love with her, but I’m scared.
Terrified.
Goddamn petrified.
I’ve never been in love, and I never believed it could happen so fast.
Two months ago I met her and nothing’s been the same since.
I find I’m perfectly okay with that, even if it scares me.
Lowering my head, I take her lips in a soft kiss.
It’s not as good as telling her how I feel, but fear?
Well, fear’s a bitch, robbing us all of time, happiness, and sometimes even our lives.
Tonight, fear wins.
And I fear my loss might be bigger than I expect.
27
Lou
I’ve grown so used to Abel’s presence that whenever he’s gone the apartment feels empty without him. It’s such a stark contrast to the irritation I felt at the idea of having a roommate.
I pull out my cross-stitching supplies and curl my legs under me on the couch so I can get started on my side project. It’s going to be a cute little llama with Ain’t No Time for a Drama Llama stitched beneath it. The one I’m making for my mom’s birthday is my main project, but I need a break from staring at it.
My record player is going in the corner and I hum along to the Zella Day song.
Halloween is coming up and for the past two years Miranda and I have dressed up in matching costumes. The first year I chose, last year was her turn, so that means this year it’s up to me again. I really want to go dressed as Starbursts, but I know what I envision is never going to be purchasable, which means I either need to learn how to sew, and quick, or scratch my idea and come up with something new.
After about thirty minutes, I set the cross-stitching aside to give my wrist a break. My stomach rumbles and when I look at the time, I realize I need to be eating dinner. The last thing I feel like doing is making a meal, but I know I can’t live off pizza forever, as much as I’d like to.
Raiding the refrigerator, I pull out some chicken, asparagus, and a few other ingredients. Yes, it’s food Abel has bought, but any time he cooks, he insists I eat it too. Since I’m actually his girlfriend now, it shouldn’t matter and I’m sure he’ll enjoy coming home to a meal already prepared. I’m not the best cook, or a cook at all, but surely I can’t fuck something basic up too much?
Lou, you are beyond overthinking this.
Focusing on the task at hand, I somehow manage to put together a decent looking meal and pop it in the oven.
As I’m washing my hands there’s a knock on the door, but it doesn’t surprise me since Miranda said she might drop by. She wants to borrow one of my dresses for a date. I didn’t ask if this date is with my landlord because I don’t want to know.
Drying my hands on a dishtowel, I head to the door and swing it open.
“Oh.” I rear back in astonishment.
Danika stands on the other side of the door, her long glossy brown locks draped over one shoulder. She’s dressed in a tight black bodysuit that shows off her cleavage with high-waisted jeans. It might actually be a cute look, if she wasn’t the one wearing it.
I haven’t seen her in three days, not since the library, and I’m definitely not happy about seeing her now.
“Hi.” She gives me a smile that’s anything but friendly. I feel uncomfortable standing in front of her in only a pair of sleep shorts with cherries on them and a loose top sans bra. Normally, that kind of thing wouldn’t bother me, but I’ve dealt with her type in the past and I can see the judgment in her eyes.
“Can I help you with something?” My tone implies I wish I could make her disappear.
She stands on her tiptoes, pretending to peek around me. “Is Abe home?”
“No, he's working.” I draw out the one word, encouraging her to get to the point, and quickly. I’m tired of her wasting my time. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stick out my hip, silently blocking her entrance, because her body language makes it very clear she expects to be invited inside for some odd reason. “If that’s all,” I continue when she stands there blinking at me like some plastic Barbie toy, “you can go.”
I start to ease the door shut and her hand lashes out, stopping it from closing.
“Wait!” Her tone is desperate, and even though I want to force the door closed I don’t. “I-I came to pick up something from Abe’s room.” She blurts the words quickly, looking almost unsure of herself, which confuses me.
“Abel’s room?” My mind jumps from thought to thought, wondering why she’d need to get anything from Abel’s room.
“Y-Yeah, I left something there the other night.”
“The other night?” I realize I’m repeating everything she says and sound absolutely ridiculous, but my brain refuses to process what I think she’s implying. “When?”
“I don’t know.” She waves a dismissive hand.
“When?” I demand, desperate to pinpoint when she would’ve been here, in my apartment, with my boyfriend.
“Uh … Saturday.”
My stress eases. She’s lying. I was here all day with Abel. We watched Psych, a few movies, and did a lot of creative things with our clothes off.
“You’re lying. We were both here all today. Together.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin haughtily. “Sunday. It was Sunday. I told you I couldn’t remember exactly when.”
Sunday. What was I doing Sunday?
My mouth parts with realization.
Babysitting. I was babysitting. Abel said he was going to the gym, but since I babysat all day there’s no way he was in the gym all that time, which means…
“Get whatever you need.” My voice is laced with venom and I snap the door wide open.
She gives me an evil grin and saunters past me, purposely bumping into me as she does. Danika might think she’s the bee’s knees, but in reality she’s just like every other mean girl in the world. There’s nothing unique or memorable about her. One day she’ll realize there’s nothing real about her. Not her nails and certainly not her personality.
I wait by the door for her to grab whatever it is she needed to get. After a minute or two she emerges from his room and strolls past me.
“Thanks, Laura.”
“It’s Lou.”
“Right, Lou. Sorry.” She waves goodbye and that’s when I see what’s clasped in her hand.
A lacy black thong.
I see
red and slam the door, but not before I miss the satisfied, catty smile on her face.
Leaning my back against the door I feel the tears well up.
I promised myself no tears over a guy this year, and I here I am already losing my shit.
Without feelings, life would be pretty dull, but damn when they hurt it feels like you’re dying.
* * *
My phone buzzes incessantly, and I know it has to be Miranda waiting to be let it in. I’m content to stay buried beneath my covers, crying my eyes out, for the next month. Where I will then emerge from my cocoon of blankets magically turned into a beautiful butterfly.
Since I know that isn’t a feasible option, I force myself from beneath the blankets, wrap my robe around me, and open the door.
Miranda takes one look at me and blurts, “Okay, who do I need to kill? I have black trash bags in the trunk and sterile gloves.”
Her words have the intended effect and I give a small laugh as I let her in.
She sniffs the air and her face sours. “Is something burning or is it you I’m smelling?”
“Shit!” I run over the oven, grab a mitt, and quickly pull out the meal, throwing the pan on top of the stove burners. The meal isn’t ruined, maybe a little dry, but I don’t care. I’m not hungry anymore. I hope Abel enjoys his overcooked chicken and that it scrapes his throat raw like his actions have my heart.
I leave the meal there and shuck off the mitt, tossing it on the counter.
“What happened?” Miranda grabs my arms, forcing me to stay still.
My bottom lip begins to quiver. I feel pathetic crying over this, over him. I should’ve known this would happen—that I was only temporary. It’s all I’ve ever been to guys. I thought he was different, but I was wrong.
Why ask me to be his girlfriend and do this? He could’ve been honest about wanting to see other people, that we weren’t exclusive. Sure, I would’ve said I wasn’t interested but he owed me that.
Miranda’s hands move my face and in a motherly tone she pleads, “Come on, Lou. You can tell me anything.”
Dropping my head to her shoulder I sob, telling her everything.
Desperately Seeking Roommate Page 19