Misadventures with My Roommate

by Elizabeth Hayley

  “No, I don’t,” she said, her eyes blazing into his from across the room. “But I want to. I’m yours for the day. Take pictures of anything you want. Though I don’t have much planned, so I’m not sure how interesting it’ll be. But I figured that would allow you to be creative.”

  Gavin wanted to tell Blake there was nothing about her that wasn’t interesting, but he was too excited to speak. Blake was beautiful and captivating. No lens on earth would show her in any other way. After flipping through a million possible photos ideas in his mind, Gavin was finally able to mutter a “Thank you” before heading into his room to grab his bag.

  He’d promised to be a fly on the wall during Blake’s day and told her it would be best if she went about her business as if he wasn’t even there and to let him do the rest. Candid shots were his favorite anyway because they captured a person’s essence completely in a single moment. It was what he’d always loved best about photography. In a world that rushed by too fast for anyone to appreciate it, photos allowed time to stand still. They gave people the ability to return to those moments—a child’s first smile, a vacation to the Grand Canyon, a holiday they didn’t know would be their last with a loved one.

  Photos were memories compressed into a tangible object that people could hang onto forever. And in a society where the present never seemed quite as important as the future, being able to hold one moment in time felt almost magical. And for the first time in a long time, watching Blake brought that magic back to him.

  It was hidden in a faint smile as she read a book on the fire escape, or in her eyes as she caught a glimpse of him from where she’d propped herself up on one elbow and leaned over the counter to eat a bowl of cereal. And after only two hours of snapping pictures of Blake, he knew he couldn’t be that fly on the wall anymore. He needed to be involved in whatever she was doing, needed to be a part of the magic he saw in her. “Let’s go out,” he said suddenly, making Blake’s head jerk up from where she’d been flipping through a magazine.

  “You bored with me already?” she teased.

  “The opposite, actually. I don’t like only watching you when I could be doing something with you instead.”

  “Oooh, okay. I can think of a few things here we can do.” He was sure the desire in her eyes was intentional.

  “I’m not sure you’ll let me use my camera for that. Though if you’re up for it—”

  “No way am I helping you make a porn portfolio.”

  Gavin let out a loud laugh. “So I guess we’re going out then.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Anywhere. Doesn’t matter.”

  “’Kay,” she said before putting her bowl in the sink. “Let me grab my bag.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Blake had first thought of letting Gavin photograph her, the idea had caused her a small amount of anxiety. She didn’t love getting her picture taken to begin with, and having someone follow her around with that as their sole purpose sounded even less appealing. But after the first two sessions, she wanted to give Gavin the chance to have unlimited access to something. Or someone. And the only person she figured she could convince was herself.

  But despite her initial hesitance, being the subject of Gavin’s photos had felt easy, natural even. He’d taken most of the pictures before they’d left the apartment, and then a few more on their walk to the ice cream place. She wondered how Gavin would make photos like the ones he’d taken interesting, but she was confident that he could. He’d shown her some of his old portfolio, and she genuinely liked his work. He had a way of bringing life to still images.

  Gavin put down his camera while they ate their ice cream cones at a small wrought-iron table on the sidewalk outside of What’s the Scoop. They talked about everything, from why the man walking past them in shorts was wearing two different dress socks, to which ice cream flavor they would choose if they could only eat one for the rest of their lives.

  “Mint chocolate chip,” Gavin said. “Hands down. Not even a competition.”

  “No way. Mint chocolate chip is too limiting. Vanilla goes with anything. Apple pie, banana milkshakes, birthday cake. It’s the multitasker of desserts.”

  He seemed to think for a second or two before admitting that it was a solid point. “How’s the salted caramel pretzel?” he asked, gesturing to what was left of her waffle cone, which wasn’t much.

  “I hated it,” she joked. “You want a bite?” She held the cone out to him before waiting for him to respond because she knew he wouldn’t turn it down.

  “That’s so good,” he said after finishing the bite he’d taken. “I don’t know why I got espresso chip when I work in a coffee shop.”

  “Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” she said with a shrug. “It’s why you like hanging around me.”

  Gavin laughed, but his expression grew serious quickly. Blake could feel the change in the air as his eyes focused in on hers. “Being with you is hardly a punishment,” he said.

  The comment made her smile, and she felt a warmth spread through her body. It definitely wasn’t a punishment being with Gavin either.

  * * *

  “You sure you want me here for this?” Blake asked from the kitchen. “I can leave.”

  “It’s your place too. I’m not gonna ask you to leave. That’s rude.”

  “So is keeping me here when your parents are coming. It’ll be weird if I hide out in my room when they’re here, but if I meet them, it’ll be weird because…well, because I’m weird.”

  Gavin wanted to tell her he wanted her there for moral support—that she’d helped him up until now, and he didn’t want her to leave him hanging when he needed her the most, but he didn’t want her to feel any sort of pressure. Her presence was enough. “You’re not weird,” was what he finally settled on.

  “I’m pretty sure your parents won’t agree.”

  “Well, they don’t agree with a lot of what I think, so let’s keep the streak alive.” He shot her a cheesy smile and pretended he didn’t notice her eye roll. “It’ll be fine. Pretend you’re crashing one of your parties and have to make small talk.”

  “Gavin, your relationship with them is already strained. If I do something to add to that—”

  “You won’t.” He walked over to where she was standing in the kitchen and took both her hands in his, pulling them up to his mouth to give them a soft kiss. He heard his phone ding, so he reached into his pocket to pull it out. “They’re here anyway, so now you have no choice,” he said.

  “Seriously? I thought they weren’t supposed to be here until three.”

  He shrugged. “They’re always early.”

  “Two hours early?”

  “I may have told you they were coming later so you wouldn’t try to leave before they got here.”

  She glared at him, but he could tell there wasn’t any real anger behind it. “How much later?”

  “Two hours,” he answered slowly before heading to the door.

  “Gavin!” she yelled, but her voice faded quickly as he opened the door.

  Gavin gave his parents each a hug and stepped to the side so they could enter. “Come on in,” he said. “This is my roommate, Blake.”

  Blake lifted her arm enough that it could almost be considered a wave. “Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Gibson.”

  “Please, call me Gail,” his mom said. “And Greg.” She nodded toward Gavin’s father.

  “Gail, Greg, and Gavin Gibson,” Blake said. “That’s very…alliterative.”

  His parents nodded awkwardly and moved toward the living room to take a seat while Gavin headed to get drinks from the kitchen. Blake mouthed a “See?” to him and threw up her arms in surrender. He guessed it was because she’d said something she regretted before they’d even had a chance to sit down. He brought out some lemonade and cookies from the kitchen and set everything down on the coffee table before taking a seat in one of the chairs.

  “How long have you lived here?�
� his dad asked after swallowing the bite he’d taken of an oatmeal raisin cookie. His head moved back and forth as he scanned his surroundings, and Gavin was sure he was making internal judgments about the place Gavin had chosen to live. And that meant he was probably also making judgments about Blake. It was a realization Gavin didn’t like, but he chose not to go there right now.

  “A few months. My old roommate couldn’t afford the rent anymore, so we both had to move.” It was close to the truth. “Blake’s roommate had just moved out, so the timing worked out.”

  “Oh, so you two aren’t…seeing each other?” His mother gestured between the two of them.

  It crossed Gavin’s mind to tell her that if by “seeing each other,” she meant seeing each other naked, then yes. Yes, they were seeing each other. He hesitated about how to answer because though they had no title—because a title would mean a commitment—they were certainly more than friends. At least in Gavin’s eyes. “We know each other from The Coffee Bean,” Gavin offered, hoping that would provide her with enough information to appease her.

  Nodding, his mom settled her hands on her lap and leaned back against the couch. “So you haven’t found anything more stable?” his mom asked.

  “My jobs are stable,” he said. “I have regular hours and work more than full-time between the coffee shop and the portrait studio.” His eyes moved to Blake, who was sitting quietly on the chair as she listened to the conversation. He thought about how awkward this must be for her, and he instantly regretted insisting that she stay. Even though it was nice for him to have her there with him, the decision had been a selfish one.

  His dad scoffed, clearly unimpressed by Gavin’s answer. “Making lattes and telling kids to say cheese aren’t exactly jobs to brag about.”

  Gavin noticed Blake’s eyes on his, widening as they silently urged him to speak up. Gavin was in the process of finishing his portfolio and already had some potential contacts that he was planning to send everything to once it was ready, but suddenly he didn’t want to tell his parents all that. Because ultimately, he realized that what he’d done, he’d done to better himself, not to please his parents. For the first time in a long time, he’d enjoyed the photography process itself and was excited about where it might lead him. He wasn’t going to let his parents taint that excitement.

  Suddenly, he was aware of the other three people staring at him as they waited for him to respond. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said. “I can make one hell of a latte.”

  The surprise on his father’s face was enough to let Gavin know that his comment had served its intended purpose. “Gavin, your life, and what you plan to do with it, isn’t a joke to us, and we wish it wouldn’t be a joke to you either.”

  “Who’s joking?” Gavin asked. “You should see some of the designs in the foam that I’ve made.”

  He didn’t miss the slow smile that crept over Blake’s face. “He’s being ridiculous,” Blake said, causing his parents’ gazes to shift to her. “His designs are nowhere as detailed as mine.” She looked to Gavin. “Remember the time when I drew a dick in that dude’s cappuccino?”

  No, Gavin did not remember that because it never happened.

  “A what?” his mom asked, practically choking on her cookie. She probably wasn’t sure that she’d heard Blake right, though Gavin knew she had.

  “A dick,” Blake said again. “Cock, penis, wang, shlong, whatever you wanna call it. This guy was being a prick, so I drew one in his drink.”

  Gavin tried not to smile as he held back a laugh after it dawned on him that Blake was pulling his parents’ negative attention her way instead of his.

  “So this is what you’re focusing on now?” his dad asked. “Drawing pornography on people’s food?”

  Finally, Gavin schooled his features as his attention went to his father, who clearly didn’t find Blake’s comment as humorous as Gavin did. “No. That’s not what I’m focusing on,” he said. “But I’ve decided that since nothing I’ve ever focused on has been good enough for you, it’s not worth mentioning.”

  His response seemed to make his parents uneasy as if they hadn’t expected him to dismiss them so easily. His father cleared his throat as he seemed to process Gavin’s words. “So our opinion is worthless to you then?”

  “It’s not worthless,” Gavin answered. “I wish you supported my goals. But you don’t.” He shrugged and let the silence hang between them before he spoke again. “And I think I’m finally ready to accept that. I can’t let your opinion influence what I do or don’t do because, ultimately, I’m the only person who has to live with my decisions.”

  His mom inhaled deeply like she’d forgotten how to breathe while he was speaking. “I don’t quite know what to say,” his mom said softly.

  “I think, for once, you shouldn’t say anything,” Gavin said. “You either want to have a good relationship with the son you have, or a bad relationship because of the son you don’t. I’ll let you think about it.” And with that, Gavin stood, signaling to his parents that their visit there was coming to an end.

  Once the door had closed behind them, Gavin turned to Blake, letting the tension of the moment leave with his mom and dad. “Penis designs? Really?”

  Blake simply shrugged. “Told you not to let me stay,” she said with a smile.

  Chapter Twenty

  Blake was tired. A kind of bone-tired that came from closing the bar the night before and having her shift start in the morning at the coffeehouse. Even though it was only about three fifteen in the afternoon when she walked into her apartment, she planned to head right to her room and crash.

  On her way through the living room, she saw Gavin sitting on the couch sifting through proofs he had spread out on the coffee table. “Hey,” she said.

  He jerked his head up like he was startled. “Hey.”

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  “Sorting through pictures to see which would be best to put in my portfolio.”

  She took a step closer to the table. “Have any favorites?”

  Gavin sat back and offered her a small smile. “Well, my absolute favorite one isn’t in this pile.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Behind you.”

  Blake narrowed her eyes at him slightly before spinning around. When her eyes found what he was referring to, her entire body went rigid as her blood seemed to thunder in her ears. Emotions flooded through her system, overloading her senses. There, on her bright coral wall, was a framed picture of them that Gavin must have snapped during the photo shoot. His arm was around her, and their smiles were wide as they looked at each other with affection that was so clear the word might as well have been stamped on them. Since her eyes were on him, she hadn’t even realized he’d taken it. It was somehow the most beautiful and most frightening picture Blake had ever seen. Her chest began to heave as her eyes and throat burned. It felt like a panic attack was trying to take hold, but there were so many things at war within her, the panic couldn’t quite get a handle on her. Instead, everything seemed to converge into one feeling. Rage.

  She whirled around to face him. “What the fuck is that?”

  Gavin’s face fell quickly, and he immediately sat up straighter. “It’s a picture. Of us.”

  “Yeah, no shit. Why is it on my goddamn wall?”

  He looked confused and worried and a little scared. “I thought it would be nice. To have a picture of us in our apartment. We look happy in it.”

  She stormed over to the small frame and took it off the hook and tossed it onto his lap. Then she pivoted and began hurrying to her room. She had to get away from him. Away from the fucking picture.

  But Gavin seemed to be having none of that. “What the fuck, Blake?” he said as he followed her down the hall.

  She opened the door to her room and tried to close it in his face, but he put his foot in the doorway to stop it. “Move,” she gritted out.

  “Not until you tell me what the hell I did wrong? You’re acting crazy, even
for you.” His eyes widened as soon as the words were out of his mouth, clearly surprised he’d let them slip.

  His words hit her hard in a way she’d never be able to articulate. Because even though she referred to herself as crazy in jest, it was a whole different thing to have it hurled at her by someone else. But she covered the wound in the way she’d learned as a kid—with barbs. “I’m not acting, Gavin. I am crazy. Even spent a bit of time in a mental ward as a child because a few other foster kids at the house we were staying at decided it would be fun to lock me in a closet right before we were supposed to catch the bus to school. I was trapped in there all day because my foster parents assumed everyone got on the bus and then they left for work. I didn’t talk much before that happened, but I hardly talked afterward for almost two years and started acting out. I probably would’ve bounced back faster, but one of the therapists believed that holding children tightly for extended periods would fix their attachment issues. That was a special kind of hell for an eight-year-old who was terrified of confined spaces. You wondered what my nightmares are about? Well, now you know.”

  Gavin looked sick, but Blake didn’t care. He wanted to make judgments about her? Act like he knew her? Well, fuck him. He didn’t know shit.

  Blake threw open the door and gestured around her room. “Look around, Gavin. What don’t you see?”

  His eyes never wavered from her. “Blake…please.”

  She wasn’t going to let him try to deter her from her point. “Pictures,” she answered for him. “Not a single goddamn one.” Blake didn’t even have any of herself. Offering to let Gavin photograph her had been extraordinarily hard for her. But she’d fought through it because she wanted to help. “Wanna know why?”

  He looked wrecked, but so was she. She’d been wrecked for a long time. “The first reason is because I don’t have any. My parents were too busy getting high to want to capture any family moments.” She said the final two words in a tone that showed how preposterous the notion was. Blake’s parents hadn’t been entirely terrible people, but they certainly hadn’t taken any family vacations or spent quality time together that warranted being immortalized with a photo.