Desperately Seeking Roommate

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  “The baby, G. He’s hungry.” She gives a small whimper of panic, eyeing the clock. “I can give him a bottle, but I know you’re not crazy about—”

  “Yes, please, God. Give him the damn bottle.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I fix a bottle and then leave my psychotic sister behind because she’s making my head spin just watching her.

  My brother-in-law, Leo, left two hours ago for the airport so he’s due home with his parents any minute.

  I join Matty and Bells upstairs in his room, where my sister sequestered them so they couldn’t drag out any more toys.

  “Mommy’s being mean.” Bella pouts, clutching her lovey close.

  “Your mom’s stressed. Sometimes when people are stressed they act mean, but they don’t mean anything by it. I promise.”

  She frowns, but then shrugs. Kids are cool like that. They don’t let things eat away at them the way adults do.

  “Will you play dinosaurs with us?” Matty holds up a dinosaur that looks like Cera from The Land Before Time—that’s the extent of my dinosaur knowledge.

  “As soon as Cristian eats I will.”

  Bella grabs a dinosaur and makes a rawr noise, pretending to eat the one Matty holds.

  Cris slurps greedily at his bottle and I have to keep pulling it away from him before he drinks it too quickly. Once he’s finished, I burp him and grab the rocker from my sister’s bedroom, carrying it into Matty’s room so I can put Cristian in it and play with the other two.

  It’s hard balancing my time between the three kids. I can’t possibly imagine how my sister feels. Two feels like a good solid number to me. Then you’re not outnumbered.

  We haven’t played with the dinos for long when the alarm chirps signaling the garage door opening.

  “Kids!” My sister calls up. “Grandma and Grandpa are here!”

  The kids drop their toys where they are and run out of the room, leaving me behind like they don’t care about me at all.

  “Feel the love guys.” I know they can’t hear me, but I joke anyway.

  Picking up the discarded dinosaurs, I dump them in Matteo’s toy box so things aren’t a complete disaster when Giulia comes up later.

  “All right, little man, ready to meet your grandparents?”

  I pick up Cristian and carry him downstairs. As soon as I reach the bottom of the steps, my sister comes out of nowhere, sweeping the baby from my arms.

  “And this is Cristian.” Already she’s headed in the direction of the dining room and I’m left standing in her whirlwind. “Abel! Come say hi!”

  “The Kraken beckons,” I mutter to myself.

  God, I miss Lou. If she were here, she’d be as amused as I am about my sister.

  When I showed up telling my sis I needed to stay a few days she wanted to know what happened with Lou. I asked her how she knew anything was going on between the two of us and that’s when she told me she caught us on her security cameras snuggling. After I told her what happened, she advised me to give Lou time, that sometimes women are overly sensitive and she’ll come around. That might be true, but it’s fucking hurtful for her to not believe me from the start.

  Venturing into the formal dining room, I greet Leo’s parents, giving them each a hug before we all sit down to eat.

  I have to suppress my laughter at the extravagant table set up, because my sister didn’t even do this for Thanksgiving last year. My dad drove down and we all ate mostly around the TV so we could watch football. But tonight she has a tablecloth draped over the table along with actual place settings I’ve only seen in movies before. There are even tall candles she has lit with the chandelier above dimmed.

  “I’ve never eaten in the almost-dark.” She kicks my leg with the point of her heel and I try not to groan. That shit hurt.

  “We’re having a nice meal. I know you’re not used to that kind of thing at school.”

  “Sure I am. I make my own meals, always very healthy and delicious, I just don’t eat in the dark.”

  “Abel,” she hisses, leaning over her plate of food ready to lunge across and murder me.

  Leo’s parents laugh.

  “We’re so happy to be able to visit. We don’t get to spend enough time with family,” his mom, Leanne, says with a kind smile directed at my sister.

  G’s shoulders relax slightly. “We’re really happy to have you.”

  The rest of the meal goes smoothly and I volunteer to clean up the dishes. My sister is letting me crash on her couch while her in-laws are in. It’s the least I can do.

  It’s getting late so Leo and Giulia get the kids in bed while his parents head to bed too, tired after their flight.

  G comes down grabbing a sippy cup for Bells and hesitates in the family room.

  “You look sad.”

  I shrug, fanning a blanket over the couch. “I’m hurt. I think sadness is a secondary response to being hurt.”

  “Lou’s a good girl. You’re my brother, so I’m always going to take your side, but if you really care about her you shouldn’t give up so easily. If a love isn’t worth fighting for, it isn’t worth keeping.”

  Her words ring true, and I know she’s the one worth fighting for, but I also know in the state she’s in, fighting will only push her further away from me.

  Grabbing the pillow I toss it on the couch. “Sweet dreams.”

  Giulia gives me a sympathetic smile and pats my shoulder as she passes me. “The sweetest.”

  31

  Lou

  I haven’t seen or spoken to Abel in nearly a week. I can tell he’s been by the apartment to grab some more things, but either it’s been a coincidence or he’s strategically avoiding me.

  Striding across campus toward my parked car, my phone starts ringing.

  I ignore the annoying sound, letting it go to voicemail. More than likely it’s a bored ass telemarketer and I’m not in the mood to troll their ass.

  As soon as the call ends, it starts up again and I reluctantly dig out my phone, swiping to answer when I see Miranda’s name flashing on the screen along with a goofy picture of us.

  “Where are you?”

  “Near the theater, headed to my car.”

  “Don’t do that! I’m going to get you, fucker!”

  “Do what? Get me, why?”

  “Not you, him.”

  “Him, who?”

  “That’s not important. Just get over here.”

  “I don’t even know where you are.”

  “Near the cafeteria. You can’t miss us. Hurry.”

  I hear some grunts and groans, her breath heavy. I swear I catch Tanner mutter something in the background. Ending the call, I abandon my plan to go home and sulk, crossing to the other side of campus, out of my way, to find Miranda.

  I see the cafeteria in the distance and—

  “Oh, my fucking God.” I don’t ever run, but I do then. “What are you doing?” I scream at Miranda.

  Somehow she has the giant, muscled, wall of a man, Kit, sprawled on the ground in a hold that I think I’ve only seen on WWE.

  “Tap out, motherfucker. Tap. Out.” She taunts him.

  Who the hell is my best friend? Should I be scared? Is she secretly a wrestler?

  “Let me go, psycho!” He tries to get away from her and I’m beyond impressed that he can’t.

  Tanner stands to the side looking mildly afraid and unsure what to do.

  “Uh … Miranda. What are you doing?”

  My best friend notices my presence and grimaces as she tightens her hold on Kit.

  “Tell her you slimy worm. Tell her what you guys did.”

  “Let me go. I’m calling the cops.”

  She tightens her hold and he yelps. “No, you won’t. What are you going to tell them? The big bad asshole football player got beat up by a girl?”

  “All right, all right. I’ll talk to her. Let me up.”

  She leans over his body. “Tap. Out.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”
>
  “I said, tap out. You’re not very good at following directions? You know what they say about small brains?”

  “No?”

  “Small brain, small peen.”

  “Bitch,” he hisses, but he does actually tap his hand against the ground.

  She releases him and points two fingers at her eyes and then him. “Run and I’ll catch you.”

  Tanner eyes me and mouths, “I’m scared of her.”

  “Someone explain what’s going on here.” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for some sort of clarification on what I’ve witnessed.

  Miranda points an accusatory finger at Kit. “Speak, peasant.”

  Kit gathers himself to a standing position and I swear he winces in pain like his knee hurts. I might feel bad for the guy if he wasn’t such an asshole. There’s a bruise on his cheek, but after seeing the locker room video I know that’s courtesy of Abel.

  Kit clears his throat, glaring at me like I’m the one who tackled him to the ground.

  Dude, it’s not my fault you got bested by a girl.

  Miranda kicks the back of his shin and his knee buckles slightly.

  “My God, woman,” he cries, glaring at her.

  “You’re taking too long.” Her head cocks to the side and she crosses her arms over her chest. One foot taps restlessly against the sidewalk in a tick tock gesture.

  Kit reluctantly looks at me once more, his eyes drop to the ground and back up repeatedly.

  “Danika and I were pissed off about you and Abel being together so we devised a plan.”

  What? WHAT?

  “A plan?”

  “To break you up.”

  Oh my God, if Miranda doesn’t kill him I might, and then I’ll hunt down that dark-haired Victoria Secret model wannabe.

  “Why would you guys want to break us up?” I glare at him, trying not to reach out and strangle his thick neck.

  “Danika wanted Abel, but I wanted her.”

  “I … what? How does that make any sense?”

  Miranda hisses under her breath, “Like I said, small brain equals small peen.”

  “We hooked up a few times, but she was always lusting after Russo. I thought if she got it out of her system she’d see I’m better for her.”

  “You two are definitely meant to be.” I honestly can’t believe what I’m hearing. “So, what happened exactly?”

  He shrugs, glaring around at the three of us. I don’t know why he’s so pissed off considering this whole thing is his fault.

  “We made a plan for her to show up at your place when we knew Abel wasn’t around and make it look like she left her underwear there.”

  “But she didn’t?”

  “No.” He shakes his head. His eyes dart to Miranda and she jolts forward like she’s going to get him and the guy actually jumps like he’s scared. I feel like laughing, which is a pretty great feeling after the last week and few days I’ve had.

  “Elaborate, Bitch Boy.” Miranda purses her lips at him, her eyes nothing but slits.

  “Jesus Christ, all right.” Wringing his hands together the same way Matteo does when I scold him he exhales a breath. “The panties were in her purse, they were never in his room.”

  I flashback to her visit and close my eyes in pain, because I’m a fucking idiot. I didn’t follow her to his room, so it made it easy enough for her to pull out the thong from her purse while she was in there and leave with it clasped in her hand. I remember how nervous she seemed and how her story changed from Saturday to Sunday. She was never there at all and I...

  I made a big fucking mistake.

  “Poor Abel.”

  I feel tears well in my eyes, because I hurt the guy I love by letting my insecurities get to me. I’ve been so much better about not letting stuff get to me, but some scars are deeper than others. My past with guys has burned me and I let it blind me to the one, brilliant, man who wants me for me and nothing more.

  “You guys are assholes.” I kick him in the knee and he falls forward, kneeling in front of me. Grabbing his chin in my hand I stare into his eyes. “I like it when my inferiors kneel. You’re one of the worst mistakes of my life, but that’s all you’ll ever be. A blip in my life, someone I won’t even remember one day. But me? You’ll never forget me, because girls like me are hard to find.”

  Letting him go I shove him away and stalk off.

  “Where are you going?” Miranda calls after me.

  Turning around to face her, I walk backward. “To make a plan to get my man back.”

  She exchanges a look with Tanner, and both grin. “We’re coming, too.”

  They hurry to catch up to me and I sling an arm around each of their shoulders.

  “We’re the three best friends anyone could have,” I sing-song, quoting The Hangover.

  They laugh, hugging me as we walk.

  Kit stands behind us, completely forgotten.

  32

  Lou

  “What are you wearing?”

  I stare at Miranda dressed in head to toe black. Black long sleeve shirt, black jeans, black combat boots. I half-expect her to pull out a black mask burglars wear.

  She looks down at her ensemble. “What’s wrong with this? I’m trying to be incognito.”

  “Exactly. We can’t show up to a football game with you dressed for mourning. We need team spirit. Go home, change, and come back for me.”

  She appraises me, still in my robe. “Thank God, I was little worried you thought going naked would be a good way to get your roommate back.”

  I roll my eyes. “Shoo, go! We don’t have much time.”

  “Don’t you have something I can borrow?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m going to steal Abel’s shirt. I have no school spirit and I would normally never be setting foot at a game except I know how much football means to him and I need to apologize in a big way.”

  “I mean, I’m all for this plan, it means I get to use my walkie-talkies, but I still think you should consider using sex to apologize. It’d be much easier.”

  “Miranda.” I expel a breath. “I’ll have plenty of time for make-up sex later. Right now, I need you to scrounge up some team spirit and not look like one of Charlie’s Angel’s.”

  “Fine, fine. I’m going. I’ll text you when I’m back.”

  I close the door behind her, and dash to the shower. I’ve squandered most of my time away wondering if this plan is totally insane and trying to finish cross-stitching my mother’s birthday present.

  Happy fucking birthday you old broad my current design reads.

  Yeah, it’s rude and crass, but it’s a joke and my mom knows that. We’ve always had the kind of mother-daughter relationship where we pick on each other. I’m also going to get her a spa day so she can get a massage and be pampered. She deserves it.

  After shaving every inch of my body—which is not something I do on the daily, or even weekly—I lather and wash my hair. Out of the shower, I pluck my eyebrows, prep my skin and apply makeup.

  Sneaking into Abel’s room, as if he’s going to catch me in the act, I take the shirt I need and hack it with a pair of scissors until it’s a crop-top.

  I’ll buy him a new one. I’m not a total monster.

  Frankly, I’m just thankful it’s still here. A lot of his clothes are gone and I know from Giulia that he’s been staying there. I could tell she was a little irritated with me on the phone, but also surprisingly understanding. When I called her yesterday to fill her in on my plan, she sounded back to her normal self and was completely ecstatic to help me win her brother back.

  I dress in the newly cut crop-top, a pair of high-rise jeans, and red cowboy boots. I wanted pink ones but they only came in kid size, so I bought the red ones instead. Fixing my hair into two space buns with two loose pieces framing my face I assess my appearance in the mirror.

  “Looking hot, Lou.” I shoot myself finger guns in the mirror and wink. If you won’t flirt with yourself, how do you expect anyone else t
o do it?

  My phone vibrates on top of my comforter and I grab it.

  Miranda: I’m waiting out front, biotch. Don’t make me wait too long. I’m hangry now SINCE YOU MADE ME GO HOME AND CHANGE.

  Me: WHY DIDN’T YOU EAT WHILE YOU WERE THERE? WE ARE ON A MISSION HERE. I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR HUNGRY BITCHINESS.

  Miranda: It’s a football game. There’s a concession stand. I’ll eat there.

  Rolling my eyes, I stuff my phone in my back pocket, grab a cardigan in case it gets chilly, and swipe one of Abel’s protein bars on my way out.

  In front of my building, Miranda sits in her car waiting with the windows rolled down.

  “Get in, loser! We have a football player to snare. I hope your vagina is secretly a Venus flytrap.”

  I bust out laughing as I open the passenger door and climb in beside her. “Here, eat this.” I pass her the bar as I buckle myself in.

  “What’s this?” She stares at the bar as if it’s personally offended her.

  “It’s a protein bar. Eat it. You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

  “I told you I’m eating at the game.”

  “Nope, no you aren’t.” I shake my head adamantly. “I need my wing woman, remember?”

  She rolls her eyes. “The things I do for you.” She rips open the protein bar and takes a massive bite as she pulls into traffic. “It’s not like I can’t eat and perform my duties at the same time, but fine, whatever you want.”

  “You’re a true friend. I’ll reward you with pizza and dessert at a later date.”

  “Mhmm,” she hums, brushing crumbs off her top before they can fall into the crater between her boobs to be lost until the end of time. “You owe me and I’ll be calling to collect.”

  When we arrive at the stadium, the lot is already packed and Miranda whines as we’re forced to park far enough away she declares we’ll be walking a mile. She’s probably not wrong.

  We follow the flow of the crowd and students dressed in our school colors of red and blue. Many sport paint smears across their face and even their chests. It seems too cold to me to be bare-chested but the guys act like they’re used to it.