Quarantined With My Straight Roommate

by Charlie Chubb

  “I have to move out of here, Tony. I just… I wanted to give you closure.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You fuck with my head when you get like that. All distant. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t even like girls. Please, tell me there’s someone else? That would make me feel better. You know what, don’t tell me.”

  “I’ve got to get ready for work, Jenny.”

  “Your dad said you don’t have to go into the office today.”

  “I’m going in.”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  I’d angered her again, but that was pretty easy for me.

  “Did you find someone to move in to replace you?”

  “Not yet. My friend Jackie said she might know someone.”

  “Good. Cool.”

  I shut my bedroom door behind me, relieved to have a barrier between my body and Jenny’s lustful eyes. I changed into the Boston finance bro uniform: a light blue button down tucked into tan pants. I combed brown hair to the side and fixed my latest novelty scorpion belt buckle to my belt, topping it off with a Stetson.

  Even a city boy uniform can use a bit of dressing up. Work sucked. Clients refused to let their investments sit and I spent all day on the phone dealing with the firm’s fuck-head clients. After work I needed a drink. Not just a drink, but mostly a drink.

  I’d go somewhere different tonight. There was no guarantee I’d see him at the Pink Zone. I walked down Bleecker Street, promising myself I’d go somewhere different. I wouldn’t walk through those doors. I wouldn’t smile at that hot bartender. Not hot. Good looking. For a guy. I mean, from a straight guy’s perspective. My perspective.

  “Tequila. No ice.”

  Fuck. I’d failed at turning Jenny down gently. I failed at staying away from this stupid bar. This stupid bartender was giving me this stupid fucking smile like he knew something about me. One shot of tequila down.

  “Another drink?”

  I lifted two fingers and pointed to my empty shot glass. Two more shots slid down the bar.

  “Waiting for someone? I’m Peter.”

  He leaned over the bar, just trying to make conversation. I kept my hat tipped low over my eyes, feeling like a fucking idiot.

  “Cool.”

  “Going to tell me your name? I see you here at least three nights a week.”

  My cheeks flashed hot. Under the pink neon lights swaying above, Peter wouldn’t see it. I downed my two shots, tipped my hat and slammed a fifty on the bar. Fuck this. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong in a place like that with guys like Peter. Guys like Max, with shoulder length black hair and smooth backs and cheeks that hardly grow any stubble.

  Boston night air hit my lungs and an urge I’d repressed surged up in me. A girl with black hair reached in her pocket for a cigarette.

  “Want one?”

  Her voice was deeper than I expected for such a small thing.

  “Yeah.”

  She grinned.

  “Where’d you come from the Pink Zone or Barney’s?”

  I cleared my throat and leaned forward for a light.

  “Barney’s,” I lied. ‘

  “Cool. Name?”

  “Tony.”

  “Lola.”

  Lola stomped her finished cigarette beneath tall black heels.

  “My friends ditched me to go to the gay bar but it’s not really my thing. Busy?”

  “Not at all, Lola,” I smiled, turning on the Texan charm as I tipped my hat.

  “Great. Want to buy me a drink or would you rather get straight down to business?”

  “What business might that be?”

  5

  TONY STONE

  She had two more cigarettes as we walked to my place and it occurred to me that Lola might be crazy as all get out. She only knew my first name, she met me on the street and she wanted to get back to my apartment for God knows what. Ok, I knew what. Fine. But like a fucking idiot, I’d gone along with her. Dad would kill me if I brought a girl like that home — a girl who smoked tobacco and wore fishnet tights and picked up random guys on the street.

  “I’ve never done this before,” she lied as I pushed the door to my apartment open.

  “Neither have I.”

  “Good. Do you have a roommate? Or… a girlfriend?”

  “No girlfriend,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  If Jenny came out here, she’d be livid.

  “I have a roommate,” I answered.

  Lola shrugged her coat off and left it on the floor. She wore revealing clothes, very revealing.

  “Like what you see?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you hard for me?”

  Max. How did I find that asshole in the club anyway? Why did I decide to take him back there? How did I know he’d say yes to me? I guess I didn’t have the looks anyone said no to. Look at Lola for instance, shimmying her shoulders, tugging on her lower lip between her teeth. I didn’t have the face that people said no to, or the body.

  “Why don’t we go somewhere private.”

  Lola winked and my stomach turned. There was no way in hell I could go through with this. Not because of Max. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not that. I told that stupid fucker I didn’t do names and then he made me and look at what happened. Max. Max. Max. Max. Max. On a loop in my fucking head.

  “You’re a million miles away,” Lola cooed, “I’ll change that.”

  The door to my bedroom barely closed, she dropped to her knees and ran her hands over my jeans. Fuck. I closed my eyes. If I closed my eyes I could pretend it was him. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine Max’s lips wrapped around my cock.

  Her hand reached for my belt buckle. I froze. She touched my crotch again and I snapped away from her.

  “Get up,” I snapped.

  “Huh?”

  “I said get up!”

  My drawl came out when I got nervous. She hurried to her feet with a whimper.

  “You need to get the fuck out of my apartment.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Get the fuck out of my apartment. Now.”

  “I was… what kind of guy turns down a blowjob you fucking weirdo?”

  “Listen, ma’am, I’m going to need you to step out of the room.”

  I held the door open, assuming she’d leave. Lola picked up a beer bottle from my bookshelf and hurled it at my head. I ducked, barely.

  “Fucker!” She screamed.

  “You’re going to wake my roommate up, ma’am. Now please, let’s part on good terms.”

  “Good terms? You’re a weird fucking pervert that’s what you are.”

  Pervert? I’d never touched her. I had no plans on touching her. Especially not now.

  “Alright. I’m a pervert. Now get the hell out of here.”

  She grabbed an empty bottle of whiskey and hurled it at my head with a shriek. Fuck. I heard Jenny rustling behind her wall. I couldn’t expect her to stay asleep for long.

  Jenny burst out of her room in a white bathrobe.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  She folded her arms and stared at Lola standing there in her skimpy outfit as I kept my eyes on her to dodge any more incoming projectiles.

  “I’m trying to get Miss Lola to leave.”

  “What are you, some kind of prostitute? You heard the man, get the hell out of here!”

  “What are you, his fucking girlfriend?” Lola snapped.

  “No. I’m his roommate but by the looks of you, you aren’t his girlfriend either now get the fuck out.”

  “Or what?”

  “I’ll call the police, bitch and I’m a black belt so fuck with me if you want.”

  Lola knew she’d been beat. Jenny stepped out of her room and got in her face.

  “Get out of here and stop wrecking my fucking apartment.”

  “He fuck you good then?” Lola snapped, “Is that why you act like his attack dog? Woof!”

  Jenny flinched but I don’t think Lo
la saw it. She shrugged her fur coat back on and stormed off. Jenny locked the door behind her and I could sense an earful coming out of her.

  “What the fuck, Tony?”

  “Sorry. I met her and we were… going to hook up.”

  “Where the hell did you meet her?”

  “The bar. Where you normally meet girls.”

  Where I met Max. Stupid Max. Did he go out tonight? Did he meet another guy?

  “And you brought her home? What the fuck? You won’t sleep with me, but you’ll bring home some bar skank who smells like a fifth of whiskey?”

  “I’m sorry, Jenny. It won’t happen again.”

  “You bet it won’t. I’m moving out tomorrow.”

  “What?! Have you found someone to take over your lease yet?”

  “I’ll keep paying rent until I find someone.”

  “You can’t afford that.”

  “Don’t pretend to give a shit about me, Tony. Go back to whatever bar you crawled out of and find some stupid skank to play your mind games with.”

  “I’m not trying to play mind games with you, Jenny.”

  “What are you doing then?”

  Trying not to hurt anyone. Thinking of Max. Wanting to do anything but have this stupid fucking conversation.

  “I’m sorry, Jenny. That’s all I can say.”

  “I see right through you, Tony.”

  My chest tightened and I bit down on my lower lip. She can’t know. She can’t suspect.

  “Whatever, Jenny.”

  “You’re straight. I know that. But you’re a psycho. You enjoy playing games with women. So I’m getting out before you fuck with my head.”

  She stormed off and slammed the door to her bedroom. She had closure, I guess. Fuck. I went back into my room and there was glass everywhere. Cleaning it up, I got a small cut and sucked my finger until the bleeding stopped.

  In bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about Max. Maybe with no roommate, I could bring him back here. No one would know about that. What the fuck was I thinking? I couldn’t go back to that fucking bar and I couldn’t lay hands on Max again.

  I had to forget about him. I had to. I’m a straight man. Attracted to women. Attracted to Lola. Attracted to Jenny. Max. Tom. Those were just diversions. Stupid fucking diversions and I had to stop.

  6

  MAX PATEL

  “What’s the point of this family meeting?”

  Julissa and Mark sat across from me as his hand pressed firmly against her thigh. Julissa couldn’t look at me, which usually meant she had bad news.

  “What? Spit it out.”

  Mark turned red and my heart started to pound. I hated awkward situations like this.

  “You need to move out,” Julissa blurted out.

  “Are you serious?”

  “You haven’t been paying rent and well, Mark and I think it’s time you got on your own two feet.”

  Mark and I. Yeah fucking right. I saw the way he looked at me and Peter, like we were wads of gum beneath his shoe on the sidewalk. This had nothing to do with surviving on my own and everything to do with the fact that her stupid boyfriend was stuck in the past.

  “Right.”

  “You need to be out of here by next week. I’m sorry.”

  Julissa rose abruptly and I could have sworn there was a smirk tugging at the corners of Mark’s mouth. He got his way alright.

  I stormed off out of the house. Fuck Julissa and fuck Mark. This was bullshit. Such bullshit.

  I called Jackie.

  “Hey loser, what’s up,” she said.

  “Ju kicked me out.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious. I need a drink.”

  “It’s nine in the morning. I’m on my way to work. Any luck with the gallery people?”

  “Those stuck up hipsters don’t want to hire anyone who’s not in their little clique. I’m submitting my portfolio to a new firm next week.”

  “How can Ju expect you to move out right now?”

  “It’s Mark.”

  Jackie was quiet for a few seconds.

  “I fucking hate Mark.”

  Yeah, so do I. But at the moment, I don’t have time to hate him since I’m going to be homeless. Jackie made another suggestion.

  “What about your parents? Can you call them for help?”

  “They’re in India again and they won’t be back for another month. They never get signal over there.”

  “You could go to India and join them.”

  “Yeah. Right. I’d have loads of fun with my parents.”

  “Sorry Maxxie. Listen, I’ve gotta go.”

  “I get it. If you know anyone who can help me out, will you call?”

  “Sure thing.”

  I spent all day out of the house. I only had twenty bucks, so I went to a café and had a cup of coffee while I touched up my portfolio. I didn’t want to see Julissa until I had to. She texted me after my latte came.

  Ju: Sorry Max

  Whatever. I didn’t bother responding to her text, so she flooded my phone with more.

  Ju: Don’t be pissy

  Ju: I have to think about my relationship with Mark

  Ju: You’ll find a place to stay

  Ju: Plus, it’s time you get a job, right? Haha

  I turned my phone off. Bent over my laptop, fiddling with the hue and saturation on a logo, I hardly noticed him walking in. I recognized his voice at the cash register.

  Peter.

  “Hey girl heyyyy!”

  He waved at me and I shut my laptop as Peter eased into the seat, tapping his freshly painted black fingernails on the table.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing much, how about you?”

  “Trying to get a job. My sister’s kicking me out.”

  “Ouchie. Real estate in this city’s a drag.”

  “I know. I’m totally fucked.”

  Peter smiled. His smile had a way of calming me down. He brushed hair out of his face with a swish of his wrist.

  “Listen, you have to tap your network, okay? Hey, Kevin! How’s my cappuccino coming?”

  Kevin hustled over, cheeks pink as he set down Peter’s drink.

  “Thanks, boo. For the tip jar.”

  He handed Kevin two dollar bills and Kevin scuttled off. Peter was nice. He was the kind of guy I needed in my life, not dickheads I met in the club. Peter slurped his cappuccino and made gleeful noises as he swallowed.

  “Okay, tell me the whole story, boo. I can’t give you a place to live, but you can crash at mine for a week or something until you find a place.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I told Peter everything and he gasped when I told him what Julissa said.

  “She really kicked you out like that, over that man? He ain’t all that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come over to mine tonight. No strings attached. I don’t got a man right now, but I know you ain’t looking for one, so we good. I have to talk to my roommates though.”

  “Cool. Thanks. How much do I owe you.”

  Peter waved me off.

  “Owe me? It’s a favor, boo. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh. But… why would you do that? I… y’know. I don’t want anything.”

  “I know. But do you know who I saw the other night?”

  “Who?”

  “That hottie from the Pink Zone. I think he’s on the DL or something.”

  Peter leaned over to gossip and it took me a moment to register he was talking about Tony. Peter moved on quick from the Tony gossip and started to talk about his roommates.

  “Sharon’s a bitch, but what do you expect from a ballerina? Oliver’s cool for a straight guy but he reeks. I mean, does this guy wash his boxers? He gets good weed though. Then there’s Alice. She’s a poet but I think her parents are just super fucking rich.”

  Listening to him was a nice distraction from my troubles. After the café, Peter walked me to his place and gave me the keys.

>   “Don’t like, rob me or anything, ‘cause I will find you and kick your ass.”

  “Do I look like the kind to rob someone?”

  Peter eyed me.

  “No. Not really. A bit too thin. See you later, boo. I get off work at the bar at midnight.”

  “See ya.”

  7

  MAX PATEL

  Peter lay on his back, flipping through a tattered manga. I sat at his desk painting my nails black. Three days, and I still had no apartment. At least Peter’s roommates were cool with it for now.

  “How was the apartment hunt?”

  “It sucked. I’m supposed to have first and last month and a security deposit. I mean, it’s bullshit. Ju could have at least given me notice.”

  “People are like that when they got a new man.”

  “How does this look?”

  Peter nodded approvingly.

  “Looks great. I have work in an hour or so. Coming tonight?”

  “I can’t. I’m going to beg my friend Jackie to help me out again.”

  “Good luck. I’ll keep an eye out for that hottie from the bar. What was his name?”

  “Tony.”

  “Yeah. Tony. So not my type. I don’t go for the cowboy type, you know… I mean… What do you look for in a guy?”

  I never thought about that before. I didn’t usually look for anyone. They found me. I pined after them. They ghosted me. A modern love story.

  “I don’t know. Someone nice.”

  Peter laughed.

  “I doubt that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You seem like the type to look for a strong guy to push you up against the wall.”

  “Maybe.”

  Peter at least knew how to make me laugh.

  “See! I have you pegged.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Boston is full of finance bros and douchebags and your typical annoying queens… like me.”

  “You are not annoying. You’re nice. Sweet.”

  “Not sweet enough to get a second date with you?”

  “Peter…”

  “Only joking.”

  I dipped the brush into black polish again and swiped on my unfinished nails.

  “I’m happy with the single life,” Peter continued, “I like my freedom. I don’t want some guy telling me where I can and can’t go, who I can and can’t fuck. Not like I’m getting laid. What about you? When’s the last time?”