by Kate Anders
“SEE! She admitted it! I knew she was stalking me! You heard it, right, Collin? Everyone heard it! She’s a stalker!” She shrieks even louder during round two.
She can’t be serious, right?
I shift over toward Collin and I just can’t help myself. “This is the upgrade? The bleach must have killed her last brain cell if she couldn’t catch on that that was sarcasm.” After I dust my jeans off, I look back at him. “I’m pretty sure you’re the scum of the earth, and I kind of hope your penis falls off, but even I think you could do better.”
And she’s back to stomping. “COLLIN! Are you going to let her talk to me that way? Oh my god, oh my god, first she’s stalking me and now she’s insulting me to my face!”
I’m not really sure how to interpret the look Collin gives me. He doesn’t actually look mad. I don’t know, I just know I can’t think about it. I have to get out of here. This party was a bad idea.
“Aw come on, baby, let’s not let this ruin our night, it’s our anniversary,” Collin pleads while looking around the room, clearly wanting this scene to end. Lucky for him, Chanel is kind of like a squirrel, easily distracted.
“Six entire months, Boo Bear!” she exclaims.
Wait. Hold the phone. Quick math says… What. The. Fuck.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” If looks could kill, Collin would be dead. Body smoldering on the ground, dead.
“Uhhhh…” Collin looks like a deer in headlights.
“‘It was only the one time, baby, a mistake. You know I love you.’ Yeah right, Collin. I knew you were full of shit, but seriously, you were dating her for three fucking months while we were still together. How did that work, exactly? Did she know you were talking about our wedding and our lives together or were you just feeding bullshit to both of us?”
“What is she talking about, Boo Bear?” Chanel pouts.
“You know what? I don’t care. There is literally nothing either of you could ever say that I want to hear.” Walking away has never felt so good until, of course, I feel a hand wrap around my arm.
“Wait, Kenz, you don’t understand, it’s not like that—”
“It’s exactly like that, Collin. And I need you to hear me right now, like, really listen, okay?”
His pitiful nod of defeat is enough for me.
I look him dead in the eyes and say, “I really hope your dick falls off.”
Clara enters my peripheral vision and grabs my hand.
“How’s about we get that hot chocolate?” she asks with a smile.
And just like that, I know everything is going to be okay.
“I can’t believe the nerve of that guy,” Clara scoffs as she plops down on the couch.
“I know, right!”
“I’m sorry about making you go to the party tonight. I guess I really didn’t think it through. I should have known they would be there.”
“Nah, you were right. I can’t keep avoiding them. And I’m not the one who did anything wrong. It was three months. Three. Months. I can’t believe there was actually a time when I was considering if I should forgive him. I actually bought the bullshit he was feeding me about it being a one-time thing.” Embarrassment flows through me. “And then for him to turn around and dump me in a fucking Starbucks like I was some kind of inconvenience for him… I just. I just don’t know him anymore. Maybe I didn’t ever really know him.”
“No, honey, you knew him. This Collin, this version of him, I don’t recognize him. Everything changed when he started getting close with his grandfather, you know that. This isn’t on you. This is all on him. And you know he is going to wake up one day and look in the mirror and hate himself.” She says it with such certainty that I can’t help but believe her.
“Yeah, you’re right. It just sucks. Like, I’m not still in love with him or anything, but we had plans. And now I look for what comes next and I have literally no idea. Everything is so up in the air. What kind of job I want? Am I going to stay in school? Are we going to keep being roommates now that Collin and I aren’t moving in together anymore? I feel like I know nothing anymore.”
“But that’s exciting! You can do anything you want now! Sky is the limit. You don’t have to plan your life around what Collin wants to do. Think about it, you were planning on getting a job and supporting you guys while he went to law school. What a waste that would have been.”
“So true.” She is so right. I can’t help but wonder how much of myself I was planning on giving up. Hell, how much of myself I did give up in my relationship with Collin.
“You can do anything, Kenz. Anything at all. If you want to stay in school, do it. Do you want to go out and get a job? Do it. If you wanna run off and join the National Guard, do it. Literally do whatever makes you happy, just make sure you stick around.” Clara reaches out and grabs my hand with a giant smile on her face. “Because of course you and I are going to stay roommates. You and I are the real deal. Sisters for life.”
I can’t help it. I throw myself on top of her and give her a giant hug.
“Sisters for life,” I agree.
“But if you decide not to stay in school, maybe we should look for a new apartment. A fresh start, you know?”
“A fresh start.” I smile at her. “Sounds just about perfect.”
CHAPTER TWO
“WHAT’S UP” BY 4 NON BLONDES
“Kenzie!” is the first thing I hear when I wake up. Well, wake up is a strong description. More like startled. I reach for my alarm clock and oh my god, why is Clara yelling at me at 5:45 in the morning?
“WHAT?” I yelled back.
I can hear her stomping through the living room and toward my room.
“You left the door unlocked!” Clara exclaims as she knocks my door open.
I shake my head to clear the cobwebs from my brain and replay the night before. Nope, I definitely locked the door. “What are you talking about?” I ask.
“The door, Kenz. It’s unlocked. You left the door unlocked last night. Anything could have happened! Seriously, Kenz, how could you be this irresponsible?” Clara looks like she is about to cry or start foaming at the mouth. Either way, it’s not a good vibe first thing in the morning.
“Clara, chill. I swear, I locked the door last night. I remember turning the lock ’cause it pinched my finger like it always does, and it fucking hurt,” I tell her.
“Yeah, but you didn’t lock the dead bolt. Anything could have happened!”
“Okay, fine, I forgot the dead bolt, but it’s not like I left the apartment completely open to the apparent serial killers and arsonists that are running the halls of our building.”
“This isn’t a joke, Kenz.”
“Yeah, no I get that, Clara. You’re acting insane. This is clearly not a joke,” I tell her, really getting pissed off. “If you are so concerned with the lock being locked before we went to sleep, you could easily have walked by the door to make sure everything was good. Besides, it’s not like I did it on purpose, and you know it.”
“That’s not the point. It’s dangerous. We are two young women who live alone with no protection. You can’t just go around not taking our safety seriously.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s wrong with you right now, but enough. It’s 5:45 in the fucking morning. We were up super late last night, and I really don’t need this kind of attitude this early in the morning for something that clearly wasn’t intentional or even completely accurate. I promise to double-check the lock every night from now on, okay?” I basically yell back at her.
“There is nothing wrong with me, Kenz, but clearly you don’t seem to care about our safety.” And with that, she turns and slams my door behind her.
It might be January, but the sun seems to have missed that memo because it’s brighter than it’s been all winter. Of course, on the one day I forget to bring my sunglasses with me. I blame Clara. It was not a good way to wake up this morning, and I have been off-kilter ever since.
I’m fina
lly back home from class, and I couldn’t be happier to be back home since I am literally covered in an iced latte, thanks to the aforementioned sun. If the sun hadn’t been blinding me, I would have seen Chanel and her cronies approaching, and I would have been able to move out of the way before one of her flying monkeys “tripped” and basically dumped her brand-new iced latte all over my favorite shirt. And of course, somehow it was my fault for being there. Chanel better count her lucky stars, because if I wasn’t already running late for class, I definitely would have made a scene. And after last night’s party, I have no shame, so the scene would have been epic.
Thankfully, Clara’s car isn’t in the parking lot, so at least I know I will get some peace and quiet once I get inside.
Making my way up the stairs, I hear Mr. Peterson’s door open. Great. It’s like he sits by his window watching the parking lot so he can always be in the hallway when any girl comes home. He is literally every creepy stereotype you can think of: his off-putting smell, that he doesn’t seem to recognize that your eyes aren’t on your breasts, complete inability to recognize personal space so when you try to pass him in the hallway, he always makes physical contact. But of course, when you say something to apartment management, he is so seriously confused about how we could complain about him going through the public hallway to get to his car. So ridiculous.
I take a deep breath as I reach the top of the stairs, a valiant effort not to breathe in his off-putting smell. Of course, he is standing right by his door, clearly waiting for me to make it to the second-story hallway.
“Lookin’ good, Kenz,” he says while leering at my breasts. Seriously, how does he know my name? I pause and stare right at him.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I challenge him.
“What? Is it some kind of crime now to tell a pretty girl that she looks nice today?” he says with a smirk.
“Oh, is that what you were doing? ’Cause it seemed more like you were leering at a twenty-two-year-old’s breasts, and considering you’re an unkept man in his, what, sixties? It’s fucking creepy.”
“Oh look, another feminist bitch who can’t take a compliment.” He sneers at me.
“Yep, that’s me, just another bitch who doesn’t want to be stalked by a creepy old guy,” I retort. I plaster myself up against the wall and gesture for him to move past me.
“Oh no, you go first,” he says with his creepy smile making a reappearance on his face.
“No, no, I insist,” I tell him, fully aware my resting bitch face is on point.
The smile on his face falls and I watch him try to work through in his demented mind how he is going to “accidentally” bump into me when I’m literally plastered up against the adjacent wall. That’s right, asshole, there is no way in hell I’m going to let you get your jollies today with an accidental boob graze.
He scoffs as he finally walks past me.
I can’t help but to mutter, “Checkmate,” under my breath as he passes by. I haul ass to my door and once I’m inside, I can’t help but hear Clara’s fanatical voice about the damn dead bolt, so I double and triple-check it just to be sure. Thankfully, it’s one of those dead bolts with a key, so I don’t have to worry about Clara not being able to get in when she comes home from class.
Time to get this coffee off my clothes, and with any luck, a shower to reboot and start this day over.
Hours later and I’ve got music vibrating the walls, while I work on yet another paper analyzing the ever so tedious Waiting for Godot. It never fails. Every semester, I always end up with one professor that wants to take a closer look at Waiting for Godot; I mean, what’s wrong with Shakespeare? Bright side, I can write this paper in my sleep.
So, while I have the minimum required amount of brain cells working on this train wreck of a paper, the rest of me is fully engaged in ’90s radio. What can I say? I love the ’90s.
So, of course, it’s when I’m in full chair-dance mode singing “I said, Hey, What’s goin’ on” that Clara returns home. Not that I notice at first, no it’s not until I am using my hand microphone to belt out the lyrics that I hear the laughter near the front door.
So what do I do? I turn the music up, stand up and keep belting out the lyrics as I make my way over to Clara, who is at this point doubled over in laughter.
When I finally finish sashaying my way over to her, I can’t help it. I pass her the invisible hand mic, which she, of course, accepts.
Next thing I know, we are both standing in the entryway under the glow of our Christmas lights belting out “Hey, yeah, yeah,” at the top of our lungs.
When the song ends, we are both giggling and smiling at each other. This right here, in this moment, is why Clara isn’t just my roommate or my friend, she’s my sister. The fight from this morning, long forgotten. This is the girl who always has my back, calls me on my shit, and is always down for a ’90s song break.
“Sorry about this morning,” she says to me a little sheepishly.
I bump her hip with mine. “Eh, no biggie. I had a run-in with creeper Peterson on the way home from class, so I get it,” I tell her.
“UGH!” she grunts as she throws her bag down on the couch before turning back to me. “I hate that guy. I have never once introduced myself to him, but he’s been all kinds of up close and personal with my tits. And what’s the deal with him always seeming to know shit about us? How in the world would he know I was a computer science major? The other day he wishes me luck with my interview. Like, how would he know I was going to an interview?”
“Did he wish you luck, or your boobs?” I ask.
“My boobs, of course. I think I could have literally just had my head cut off and he wouldn’t notice. Nothing exists for this guy above the collarbone.”
“I know. There is something seriously wrong with that guy. I talked to the guy in the front office, and they were all, ‘Oh that’s just Mr. Peterson, he’s getting up there in age, I’m sure he didn’t mean to bump into you,’ like really?”
“Ugh. Anyway, how was class?”
“It was okay. I got in late to my first class and, of course, the prof decided to just stop talking midsentence and stare at me until I sat down. Pretty sure I need no more embarrassing moments,” I groan.
“Yeah, I heard.”
Great, it’s already around campus. Chanel can’t waste an opportunity to spread more drama around campus, especially about me.
“It’s funny,” I tell her. “I made it three and a half years at this school not having a single rumor or embarrassing event get spread around campus, and now it’s like every other day.”
“It’s just Chanel, she’s an evil genius at manipulating social life on campus. Imagine what that girl could accomplish if she didn’t use her powers for evil.” Clara sits next to me on the couch and puts her arm around me. “You know you’re going to be fine, right?”
“Yeah, I know. After all, how many times can someone dump iced coffee on someone before everyone knows you’re doing it on purpose?” I joke.
“So true,” she says midgiggle.
“What about you? How was class?” I ask.
“Eh, you know, same as always,” she replies, kind of avoiding the question as she heads to the kitchen. “Not much to report.”
“Really?”
“Yep, nothing exciting.” I can hear her rummaging around in the kitchen.
“I’m surprised,” I say. “I normally can’t shut you up about your classes.” Laughing, I say, “Not that I know anything about what you talk about. I’m normally confused two minutes into your explanations. And don’t even get me started on coding. If I can’t learn Spanish, there is no way I am ever going to learn how to code.”
“It’s not that hard, Kenz. Once you get the hang of it, you don’t really even think about it anymore. You develop your own style of coding. Some people’s styles are so recognizable I could tell you who wrote it just by looking at it.”
“Yeah, that’s my problem. If the rules are so br
oad that you can recognize someone’s coding style, how the heck am I ever going to get it?” I ask. “I like rules for language,” I say, gesturing to myself. “That’s why I am an English major. Lots of rules.”
“Yeah, ’cause it’s not like there aren’t tons of exceptions in English, or like someone’s writing style isn’t super identifiable in English,” Clara says, rolling her eyes.
“Okay, okay, you’re totally right, I cave. But I’m still never going to learn how to code, and don’t even think about mentioning algorithms” —I point at myself— “English major. No math. I barely made it through mathematics for liberal arts majors. Your math makes me want to crawl into the corner of my bedroom and cry myself to sleep.”
“You make it sound like torture.” Clara laughs.
“Because it is!”
“You are so ridiculous,” she says, shaking her head. “Don’t go knocking on math. I’m loving my topological data analysis class this semester.”
I throw my head back and pretend to snore.
Clara throws a dish towel at me and I duck just in time to avoid getting hit in the face.
“What? I don’t even know what that means!” I see Clara open her mouth to explain and I rush to interrupt, “I wasn’t saying I want to understand!”
“Fine, fine, fine, stay in the dark. You realize that computers run the world, right?”
“Of course I do, which is why I always say thank you when Alexa turns my lights off when I ask. When the machine rebellion begins, they will remember I was always on their side and very polite,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Oh my god, you are seriously insane.”
“I’ll have you know I am a fucking delight,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Of course you are.”
Ringing sounds from the living room.
“We seriously need to get different ringtones. I can never tell whose phone is ringing,” I tell Clara as we both head back to the living room in search of our phones.
