Make Your Move

by Laura Heffernan

  Hey,

  I’ve been thinking about the game you mentioned. I know you’re trying to come up with another idea, but I wanted to give you an idea of the type of artwork I can do. Let me know what you think. I’m here if you want to brainstorm.

  T

  How thoughtful. Especially after I’d done my best to blow him off about the apartment. A lot of people would have changed their minds about helping me. Then I opened the attachment, curious to see the types of drawings he’d worked on in the past.

  When the file loaded, I gasped, one hand covering my mouth to stifle the sound in our small office. Megan glanced up, but I ignored her.

  This wasn’t a picture of some old project he’d forwarded, like I’d expected. This was a drawing of a girl, clearly created after our conversation the other night. Tall, curvy, my naturally brown hair, with glasses, Tyler had drawn me as a flapper. I loved everything about it. It was so perfect, I saved it to my phone as my new wallpaper before responding to let Tyler know how much I adored it. Even if I couldn’t find a way to use it in a new game, the gesture meant a lot.

  Between anticipating my upcoming roommate appointment and squeeing over the picture of Flapper Shannon, the rest of my day flew by.

  When I got home that night, I responded to a knock on the outer door to find a short blond girl about my age standing on the other side. She smiled broadly, revealing a small gap between her front teeth. It gave her character. “Hi, I’m Lana!”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Shannon.”

  “I. Love. Your. Dress. It’s totes adorbs. Did you get it from Anthropologie?”

  “Thanks. No, it’s from my nana. She gave me a lot of vintage stuff she doesn’t wear anymore.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “So, you’re wearing an old dress?”

  “Um, yeah.” I wondered why it mattered. “Anyway, come on in, and I’ll show you around.”

  We entered the shared hallway, and I gestured toward the stairs leading downward. “My nana lives there. She owns the building. I’m upstairs.”

  “I’m not getting the entire building?”

  “Er, no. I’m just renting out the one bedroom. And the shared spaces in the upstairs apartment. Come see.”

  She followed me up the stairs and into the living room. “Oh, it’s… cute!”

  “Thanks! I like it.”

  “It seemed a lot bigger online.”

  My ad listed the square footage of the property, mentioned that it was the top unit of a two-family, and the pictures had been taken from basically the same place we stood. I didn’t know what to say. “It’s a good size for two people.”

  “Hmmmm.” She wandered away toward the kitchen, so I followed, narrating the benefits of the apartment.

  Before I turned the corner, a squeal split the air, so loud I feared she might’ve seen a cockroach. Which should never exist in my apartment. “Lana? Are you okay?”

  “Ermygorg! You got me cupcakes! You’re absolutely the best potential roommate ever!”

  I what? Was that initial sound even a word? What on earth…? A second later, I had my answers. Lana stood in the kitchen, holding a pink bakery box I’d left—closed—on the counter in one hand. In the other, she held a red velvet cupcake with a bite taken out of it. For a long moment, I just stared at her, completely at a loss for words. What kind of person walked into a stranger’s apartment and started eating whatever they found?

  “Are they vegan?” Lana asked.

  An excellent question to put to someone before taking a bite of their food. Those cupcakes came from Nana’s bakery, and she found the idea of vegan baked goods as appalling as if I’d suggested she quit work and move into a nursing home. “Um… no. Sorry?”

  “Ew!” She spat a mouthful of crumbs into the box, coughing and gagging, still holding the rest of the offensive non-vegan cupcake. It didn’t seem to bother her that she’d ruined everything else in the box. Maybe in her world non-vegan cupcakes deserved to be spit on.

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten, determined not to snap at her. It took a lot to ruffle my feathers, and like Nana always said, kindness didn’t cost anything. I could get more baked goods easily. Yelling at Lana wouldn’t make either of us feel better.

  On the other hand, I couldn’t live with someone who exhibited so little respect for my stuff. “Okay, Lana, thanks for stopping by. I’ve got someone else coming to see the place in a few minutes, so I’m going to have to cut things short.”

  The remainder of the cupcake fell to the floor, sending an explosion of crumbs across the previously clean tile. Her face crumpled. “Oh, no. I just wanted you to like me, and now I’ve ruined everything.”

  A pang hit me. I did not, under any circumstances, want to live with this girl. Someone better had to see and respond to the ad, any day now. It was a matter of timing and luck. At the same time, I’d been raised to be polite, even to rude people. Throwing her out while she begged me to give her a chance seemed cruel.

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said. “You came all the way out here. When you’re ready, let me show you the spare bedroom.”

  Before leaving the kitchen, I looked pointedly from the crumbs on the floor to the broom hanging in the corner to her face, but she made no move to clean up. Didn’t even acknowledge the mess. Instead, she opened the fridge and put the now-contaminated bakery box inside. Why, I couldn’t begin to guess.

  Breathing deeply, I counted to ten for the second time. Then again. Lana stood there, blinking at me. Finally, I turned toward the rest of the apartment. The best way to get rid of her was to show her what she wanted to see as quickly as possible.

  She wrinkled her nose when we got to the room vacated by my former roommate. “Is this the biggest room? How big is your room?”

  “My room is roughly the same size,” I said. “There’s a third, smaller bedroom I use for my office.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair! And we pay the same amount?”

  She wouldn’t be paying anything, but that was beside the point. “The market rent is over two thousand dollars. I’m asking for seven hundred fifty dollars for one room. That’s fair.”

  “Maybe to you.” She sniffed. “How often does the maid come? There’s dust on that windowsill.”

  Maid service? What planet was this girl living on? I’d completely run out of words. It wasn’t even worth arguing. “Tuesday mornings.”

  “You should speak to her, because she did a terrible job on this room.”

  The doorbell rang, a welcome savior. “Sorry, Lana, but my next appointment is here. It was nice to meet you.”

  With any luck, Interviewee #3 wouldn’t insult my apartment, eat my food, make a mess in the kitchen, demand a discount on rent, and expect a cleaning service. At this point, anyone would be an improvement.

  * * * *

  Things with Interviewee #3, also known as Matt, went well enough, until he informed me that he would be bringing a service animal to help with his insomnia.

  “I’m sorry, but I have severe allergies,” I said.

  “It’s not a pet. It’s a service animal. You can’t turn me down.”

  I sent a silent thank-you to my brother Chris, a lawyer who had prepared me for this scenario. “Actually, I can. Because you would be living in the unit with me, and because the presence of any fur-covered animal would cause me severe respiratory distress, I don’t have to allow your poodle into the apartment. The Fair Housing Act requires reasonable accommodation, and it’s not reasonable for me to be unable to breathe in my own home.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “Thanks for stopping by, Matt,” I said. “It was nice to meet you. Good luck with the apartment search.”

  Once he finally left, I texted my friends and begged them to hang out with me. I should have been working on my new game, but I was way too distracted. Besides,
none of my ideas seemed to be panning out. Finding that other game so similar to mine had killed my mojo.

  Holly and Nathan had childbirth class, but Cody and Gwen told me they’d already ordered takeout, paid for it online, and could I pick it up on the way? Immediately, I let them know they had a deal. After thinking a minute, I texted Tyler and asked him to be our fourth.

  Sorry, I have plans, he replied a few minutes later. Next time? I’ve got a new game I think you’ll like.

  About forty-five minutes later, I showed up at Gwen and Cody’s apartment with enough Chinese food to feed an army in one hand and a box of Nana’s chocolate chip cookies in the other.

  Gwen held out a whiskey and soda, which I gratefully exchanged for the food, downing about half of it in one gulp. When I paused for breath, I realized they were both staring at me.

  “No new game?” Cody asked. “I hoped you were bringing something to test.”

  “Oh, I wish,” I said. “My muse is still on vacation. Other than arranging for distribution and marketing for The Haunted Place, I haven’t been working on my own projects at all.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Gwen asked as she carried the food into the kitchen.

  We had very firm “no food around the games” rules ever since the time Gwen brought a date to Games Night who arrived with a Big Mac. Joan dripped special sauce all over one of Nathan’s card games. He banned Gwen from ever inviting another date to play with us, even after she replaced the game. When she met Cody, he had to provide an affidavit of character before being allowed to join us.

  Nathan was probably kidding when he asked for it, but Gwen didn’t want to take any chances. Still, food and conversation first, then gaming.

  We loaded up our plates with spring rolls, lo mein, and General Tso’s chicken. As we ate, I shared the stories of Lana and Matt. By the time I finished, both my friends howled with laughter and I felt better. At the same time, I was starting to despair of finding anyone.

  “Guys, they weren’t even the worst. On Monday I spent half an hour with this girl who seemed great. Funny, smart, interesting… I was prepared to offer her the place on the spot. But then she made the most racist comment. Something I can’t even repeat. By the time I finished explaining why I refuse to live with her, she must have been about three blocks away.”

  “Ew.” Gwen wrinkled her nose. “In that case, I’m Team Lana.”

  “I’m Team None of Them,” I said. “Nor do I want to live with the woman who stole my toothbrush. But I’m running out of options.”

  “Seriously, Shannon,” Cody said. “What about Tyler?”

  That was, of course, the million-dollar question. Tyler had presented me with a great solution. I knew we got along, and he’d definitely never steal my tampons. Rejecting his offer made me feel bad. But the memory of our kiss hung awkwardly at the edges of the conversation. He was a nice guy with a good job. He’d find another place soon enough.

  “I like Tyler, but it’s just too weird. He says he’s over me, but…”

  “I wouldn’t worry about him,” Cody said. “He’s on a date right now.”

  For some reason, it surprised me to hear about Tyler dating. It made sense. He was an outgoing, social guy. My friends found him attractive, and his varied interests made him interesting. I enjoyed spending time with him because of his outgoing personality and great sense of humor. I considered him a friend. The idea that part of me expected him to be sitting home waiting for me to call made me shake my head at myself. How thoughtless.

  “Having a roommate bringing home dates all the time creates another type of awkwardness, especially with Nana downstairs.”

  “You don’t have any feelings for him, right?”

  “I like Tyler. But if you’re asking if I want to date him, no.”

  “Then I wouldn’t worry about it,” Cody said. “He met someone at the store, and he seems to like her. He’s not dating lots of people, just one.”

  “Excellent!” I still wasn’t a hundred percent sold on moving in with someone who had once kissed me, especially when his new girlfriend might have an issue with it. But at least I’d found one applicant for the apartment whom I’d get along with.

  While I stood trying to decide, my phone beeped with a new email. I pulled it up to skim:

  Hey. Saw the ad. Apartment looks sweet. Stopping global warming is very important to me. Are you up for showering together to save water?

  He’d thoughtfully provided a picture of himself standing shirtless before the mirror. I wondered if he was naturally hairless or if he shaved his chest. Not that it made any difference. No thanks. You’re so barking up the wrong tree. At least it wasn’t a dick pic. I’d never done online dating, but Holly got a bunch when she first signed up.

  Enough was enough. That message had to be a sign. As soon as Cody went back to the dining room, I pulled out my phone and texted Tyler. Today’s roommate meetings were a disaster. Do you want to come look at the place tomorrow?

  * * * *

  The next day, my doorbell rang at 6:58, which made me happier than it should. People who were always late frustrated me to no end, even making allowances for public transit. So many people who asked to come see the place showed up half an hour late. One didn’t show up at all, then texted three days later to ask if the place was still available. No apology, no excuses. Nope, sorry. And yet all of that rudeness was preferable to the person who showed up more than an hour early for a Saturday morning appointment last week. She smelled like she hadn’t been home from the bar yet and didn’t apologize for waking me up.

  I opened the front door with a smile and led the way up the half flight of stairs to my place.

  “Hey.” Tyler held up several fresh tomatoes in a basket. “Nana asked me to bring this to you. Said she expects meatball marinara sauce tomorrow.”

  “Thanks! Glad to see she’s putting you to work already. That means she likes you.”

  “She’s great.” After I took the tomatoes from him, Tyler held up his hands. “I was helping her for a few minutes. Can I use the bathroom to wash my hands? Oh, and also shower and shave and steal your toothbrush.”

  He made the request with such a deadpan expression that I tried not to laugh. But my lips twitched and soon I found myself doubled over in the hall. When I finished wiping my eyes, I said, “Oh, man. Thanks for that. Anyway, as you probably know, the downstairs apartment belongs to Nana. No wild parties, no smoking in the apartment, and never, ever visit her without turning your phone off first.”

  Tyler chuckled.

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Right, sorry,” he said. “So you want me to hang out with your nana if I move in?”

  “What I want is irrelevant. You’ve known Nana for about ten minutes, and you’re helping her garden.”

  “Touché.” For the first time since he asked about moving into my spare room, Tyler looked like he might be starting to regret that decision. His eyes darted to the front door. If I really didn’t want him as a roommate, this could be my moment.

  But it wasn’t my nature to take advantage of other people’s discomfort. “Relax. Nana’s amazing. I just meant that, once you taste her coffee and waffles, you’ll be there all the time. I don’t even like coffee.”

  “Oh, right.” He loosened his tie a bit, the first time I noticed how fancy he looked.

  At Game On! Tyler usually wore jeans and T-shirts, just like Cody and Gwen. Over the years, Holly had changed from the dressier clothes her former fiancé preferred to the opposite end of the spectrum and back. These days, she wore mostly leggings and geeky maternity T-shirts. After work, Nathan changed out of his mechanic’s coveralls into worn jeans or khakis and a button-down cotton shirt or polo. My flowy vintage dresses usually stood out in the group as one of the dressier outfits. Until now.

  “What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.

  I g
estured at his gray slacks, crisp violet shirt, and patterned tie. “You didn’t have to dress up for me. I mean, you look nice, but it’s not necessary.”

  “I didn’t,” he said, giving me a quizzical look. “This is what I wear to work.”

  “Right.” Mentally, I rolled my eyes at my own silliness. Of course he’d come straight from the office. Way to avoid making things awkward. “Well, I like the tie.”

  “Thanks. My uh…, a friend picked it out.”

  A friend, huh? Something in his tone made me suspect the tie came from the new girl Cody mentioned. They must have been seeing each other longer than I thought, but I didn’t want to ask.

  “Clearly, she has good taste,” I said. He didn’t correct my pronoun usage, essentially confirming my suspicion.

  Tyler followed me as I started in the living room and gave my standard spiel about the place. Since Ellen gave me her notice, I’d honed my pitch perfectly, despite tailoring it to discourage some people after they’d shown up.

  To help him visualize himself in the apartment better, I showed Tyler the empty shelves in the linen closet and the bathroom drawers that would become his if he moved in. When Ryan moved in with his last roommate, she’d left her stuff filling all the common areas: random toiletries scattered across all the shelves in the linen closet, both drawers in the vanity in the bathroom full of cosmetics, coats spilling out of the hall closet, etc. When he’d asked for a place to store his tampons in the bathroom, she acted like he burned her clothes. Not because he’s trans, but because he wanted to share her space. It said a lot that Tyler was the first potential roommate I’d wanted to feel at home in my apartment.

  When I finished going over the common areas, after a brief hesitation, I opened the door to my office. Unlike all the other rooms, it hadn’t been cleaned recently, so I usually didn’t show it to prospective roommates. No one needed to see it since the rental agreement didn’t include this third bedroom. But Tyler was by far the most likely to move in, and he was a friend. I knew him well enough to understand that he wouldn’t judge me for the mess.