by Ute Jackle
A dozen sirens went off in my head. That amused tone of voice sounded familiar—where had I heard it before? The next instant, I wanted to dive over the railing and throw myself into the (not-very-deep) abyss. What in the world was he doing here, of all places? Was the universe out to get me today? To my horror, my cheeks were burning now, much worse than before.
Then he saw me and stopped. “You?”
To my dismay, he actually sounded pleased to see me.
“Yeah, me.” I didn’t even try to sound friendly; I didn’t have the energy.
“Would you please keep going?” In her charming way, Martha rammed one of the suitcases into the back of his knee. All of a sudden, she was starting to grow on me.
He took two steps at once and landed next to me.
“My bad,” Martha said, pretending it was an accident.
He waved it off. “It’s okay.” Then he looked at me way too intently. “What’s the matter with you? You don’t look so great.”
Yay. Just what I needed—dumb comments from a guy I couldn’t stand. My mood instantly devolved from bad to abysmal.
“Charming as always, I see,” I said, making a face. With my head held high, I was determined to ignore this jerk and carry my own damn books up those last two flights, even if it killed me—which it probably would. With a groan, I picked the box back up. A stab of pain immediately shot through my back, and I dropped the books again, trying to suppress a yelp.
“You need help?” Ben asked.
I gave him a dismissive wave and rubbed my back. I certainly didn’t need his help.
“I’m fine.” As I struggled to straighten my back as inconspicuously as possible, Ben reached down, picked up the box as if it barely had anything in it, and asked: “What floor?”
I was too weak to protest.
“Fourth,” Caro answered for me, since my mouth couldn’t form words. Cocking one eyebrow at me, he started up the stairs with the box. What was that look supposed to mean? It was true that I was being a little ungrateful, but couldn’t he understand my issues with him?
He floated up the stairs with Martha and Caro in tow, while I still clung to the railing and pulled myself up the stairs, one hand over the other. I’d probably be spending a lot of time in my room to avoid these stairs. Was this one of the ways people were tortured in the Middle Ages? Right now, I could imagine it all too clearly. I finally arrived on the landing, gasping for breath, while the others waited for me in front of the apartment door.
“Here we are.” With an inviting gesture, Ben pointed to a closed door, unsuccessfully holding back a huge grin. He had the cutest dimple at the corner of his mouth, which only made him even more irresistible. In fact, it was a pretty clever camouflage for his nefarious ways.
“How do you know I live here?”
“Well, there’s only one vacant room in the whole building, and this is it.” For some reason, this was obviously very funny, and his midnight-blue eyes glinted like steel in the sunlight.
“How do you…” I repeated, while a terrible, terrible thought started forming in my head.
5
Every time I felt like things couldn’t get any worse, life taught me that yes, they really could. Instead of unlocking the door for me, Ben moved aside and let me fumble with the key. It took a while for my shaking hands to meet with the lock. Regrettably, the key fit. As the door opened, I held on to the irrational hope that Ben would just put the box on the floor and continue to his place further upstairs, but unfortunately, he did no such thing. So, I turned around.
“You can put the box down now. Thanks a lot, goodbye.” I could’ve probably been a little less blunt, but I didn’t want to run the risk of Ben misunderstanding me. Maybe he had a hearing problem. He stood in the hallway and looked at me expectantly. Could you get any more presumptuous than that?
“Well? Which part didn’t you get? The part about putting my box down, or the goodbye part?”
Snorting, he turned to my friends. “I’m beginning to suspect she’s always like this, am I right?”
“Let’s just say she’s not a huge fan of men in general right now,” Caro supplied cautiously, to which Martha added with more candor: “She can sometimes be a little bitchy.”
I spun around indignantly. She didn’t even know me that well. How dare she judge my character!
I heard Ben heave a sigh.
“I see this is going to be great… May I?” Without waiting for an answer, he stepped past me into the hallway and disappeared with my box through the middle of the three doors on the left-hand side.
“Hey!” I called after him. “Come back! You can’t just traipse into someone else’s apartment like that!”
This time, he reacted right away and reappeared in the hallway. He took off his gray corduroy jacket and hung it on a hook next to the door with brazen authority. Then he checked himself out in the mirror. Jeez, what a vain…
Wait. My thought from before popped back into my head, the one that I had instantly suppressed.
“Oh God. Don’t tell me you live here too, do you?” With my heart in my throat, I waited for his reply. My mouth went dry, and when I saw the expression on his face, there was no need to answer.
“Welcome, new roomie!” He spread his arms wide.
I felt myself deflate, while Martha walked into the apartment and disappeared into the same room to drop off my suitcases.
Caro patted my arm in pity. “You guys know each other?” she asked softly.
I nodded and mechanically pulled the key out of the lock and took a shaky step inside before turning to face her. “He’s the guy from this morning.”
6
I was still in shock. The four of us sat at the kitchen table, silently eyeing each other. Ben had had the audacity to simply join us. Granted, this was his kitchen too, but he should have realized by now that I didn’t really care for his company all that much. He either had abnormally thick skin, or he just didn’t care. Probably a bit of both.
“Well.” Caro eventually said through the uncomfortable silence. If it had been up to me, the silence could have gone on indefinitely. I certainly wasn’t going to give Ben an opening to start talking to us. With a bit of luck, I could spend the following weeks in the apartment without having to talk to him at all. All I needed to do was figure out his schedule and adjust mine accordingly. Maybe I could take night classes. There must be some, and then I could sleep during the day…
“Well.” He ran his hand through his unruly hair. Of course, he took Caro’s gesture as permission to jump into the conversation.
“Where’s your other roommate?” Martha asked, running her hand up Caro’s thigh. I was curious to see how Ben would react to a lesbian couple, him being the epitome of ignorance as he was. But his gaze simply brushed over them as he answered in a completely normal voice, “Toby should be here any minute.” He stood up and took a beer out of the refrigerator. “You guys want one?”
“Sure.” Caro and Martha accepted in unison. For some reason unfathomable to me, they genuinely seemed to like Mr. Full-of-Himself. They must have both been out of their minds.
“What about you?” he asked me.
“No thanks,” I declined icily, crossing my arms.
The bottles opened with a hiss, and he set them on the table.
“Because you don’t like beer, or because I offered?” he asked.
“Because beer’s not gluten-free,” I replied haughtily.
They clinked bottles.
“Because it’s not what?” He took a swig.
“Gluten-free. I have celiac disease, a food intolerance. No wheat, no rye, no barley, no oats, no spelt.”
“Oh, right. Isn’t that all the rage in the States now? Why, are you trying to lose weight?” He checked me out.
Caro snorted. I glared at her while Martha kept her eyes trained on her beer bottle.
“Exactly,” I replied, simply because it was a waste of time to explain my food intolerance to him. The intol
erance I had towards him was a lot worse.
“I’m Caro, by the way.” Was my best friend stabbing me in the back now? “And this is Martha. And of course, you’ve met Luca.”
“Ben.” He leaned back slowly, and I was already bracing for the anti-lesbian remarks I’d secretly been waiting for. I leaned in, and listened closely for his next words. Soon, the two girls would see what a snake he was.
“Martha,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Did you by any chance date Sarah Giebel?”
“I did! You know each other?” Martha was frowning suspiciously, much to my delight.
“I created the home page for the chocolate shop. She had no idea how to do it, so I helped her out. No big deal.” He shrugged.
“That was you?”
To my surprise, Martha smiled at him. I’d never seen her smile before. She had certainly never smiled at me. What was going on here?
“Sarah was really happy with your work. The website looks awesome, I have to say. It’s crazy how many hits she’s getting. And you did it all for free!”
He raised a hand in protest. “Well, not exactly…”
They grinned at each other, then shouted “Chili chocolate for life!” at the same time, clinking bottles as if they’d been friends forever.
That was unexpected. Volunteering to work for a friend. Had I been wrong about him after all? I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. First impressions were never wrong. The creaking of the front door opening interrupted my useless train of thought, and a dark blond Adonis stepped into the kitchen; a dead ringer for Alex Pettyfer. What was happening here? Had I stumbled into the apartment for the contestants of the Mr. Erlangen contest? I couldn’t stand pretty boys.
“Hey, we have visitors! My name’s Toby.” He gave a general wave to everyone.
The others introduced themselves, whereas I sat frozen. Maybe I could stay at Caro’s for another few nights after all. I needed some time to get used to the situation.
Ben pat me on the back. “This is Luca. She’s our new roommate.”
“Say what?”
“There was some sort of mix-up with her name, and she landed here with us,” Ben explained while Toby helped himself to a beer. To my surprise, he seemed to understand Ben’s cryptic explanation, and he grabbed a desk chair from somewhere and sat down at the table with us.
“Welcome to our place then. I think it’s great to live with a woman; it’ll loosen things up a bit. Can you cook?”
That made me laugh out loud. Unbelievable. “Sure! Whenever I’m not vacuuming or doing the dishes, and right after I do everyone’s laundry.”
He beamed. “Really?”
“Keep dreaming, buddy.”
“Oh. Too bad. That would’ve been perfect… No drink for you?” Toby gestured to the emptiness in front of me.
Oh great, he was just as polite as the other idiot.
“She’s doing that gluten thing,” Ben supplied helpfully.
Just as he was about to take a sip, Toby put the bottle back down. “Doing what now?”
Ben shrugged. “Some kind of a Hollywood diet.”
That was more ignorance than I could handle. My condition had also been a constant source of discussion with Ringo too. Instead of supporting me with my dietary restrictions, he’d always accused me of just trying to draw attention to myself whenever I stood at the store and scrutinized the nutritional info of just about everything there. But a lot of foods unsuspectingly contained gluten, not just bread and the like, so I had to be careful. “She can’t have any gluten. She gets really sick if she does,” Caro defended me for the first time, and I was truly grateful. Maybe the two morons would let it go now. But no, they just exchanged a curious look, and I had the feeling this could mean trouble. Finally, Ben got up, went to the fridge, and picked out a bottle of orange soda. “You can drink this, right?”
I nodded reluctantly. I still didn’t trust him. He opened the fridge again while Toby stood up and made a beeline for the kitchen cupboard.
“How about this?” Ben held up a bottle of vodka.
“Yes, but I don’t really feel like…”
“I won’t take no for an answer.” He cut me off. “Just a little welcome drink. What about you guys?” He nodded at the other girls.
“Count me in,” Martha said, and Caro seemed interested, too.
Meanwhile, Toby had returned to the table with a handful of glasses.
“Have you guys had submarines before?” he asked.
We said that we hadn’t. I started to get a bad feeling as I watched him pour the glasses half-full with the soda and fill the shot glasses to the rim with vodka. Then, he pushed the glasses towards us, and took his glass of soda in one hand with the shot glass in the other. Ben copied him, of course, and then both of them lowered the shot glass into the larger glass and held them there between their thumbs and forefingers so that the shot glasses hovered over the soda. Reluctantly, we did the same.
“After we say cheers, drop the vodka into the soda, then drink it all in one go.”
“Oh!” Caro was grinning. She actually seemed to enjoy the stupid game. “A submarine!”
Toby nodded. “A submarine.”
I decided to join in, but only to avoid any more dumb commentaries about my negative attitude. After dropping the shot into the orange soda, I knocked back the concoction. I wouldn’t let it be said that I was a spoilsport. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Ben was amused by my shudder.
“Not bad.” Martha pushed her empty glass in Toby’s direction, and he happily poured again.
“I hope you can hold your liquor,” Ben whispered in my ear.
“I can drink you under the table any day,” I boasted, immediately regretting my cockiness. I was staring into his stupid eyes again. I’d never seen eyes that color before. Detecting an amused twinkle, I swallowed, slightly intimidated. He looked happy to accept my ridiculous challenge.
“C’mon, Luca, you show ‘em!” Caro egged me on. I could’ve strangled her. Glancing around at the amused faces, I was seriously cursing my big mouth. How I already hated this place!
“Shut up and pour,” I ordered, in spite of myself. Of course, Ben didn’t need to be told twice.
“Why don’t we skip the soda—wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
“That’s so kind of you,” I replied in a saccharine voice as Toby pushed two full shot glasses towards us.
“You can do it!” Martha and Caro cheered for me. At least they were on my side. I glared at Ben as angrily as I could.
“On three!” he said dryly.
I nodded and felt as if I’d been challenged to a duel.
“Wait,” Toby said. “Shouldn’t the loser have to do something?”
The two of them grinned at each other. Was this a conspiracy? When had they had time for that? Were they communicating telepathically?
“What did you have in mind?” Ben asked, and I felt myself shrinking in my chair. They wouldn’t dare suggest anything kinky.
“The loser gets to clean the bathroom for a month,” Toby suggested.
“Perfect,” Ben agreed without missing a beat, which I found a little strange. I shrugged. Okay. Those were acceptable terms.
“We’d actually prefer not to do the cooking, either,” Ben declared magnanimously, then he turned to me.
“Are you sure?” I said, still overly friendly. “I could’ve made you such a nice mushroom stew!”
Laughing, he picked up his shot glass, saluting me mid-air. “You’re a dangerous lady.” He swallowed it down in one swig.
I reluctantly followed his example. I gasped for air as the fiery liquid burned my throat going down.
7
When I woke up, it felt like a sledgehammer was pounding on my head. In slow motion, I gently draped a hand over my throbbing skull and didn’t dare move a muscle. Just the thought of moving made me want to vomit. What in the world had happened? Gradually, my surroundings came into focus—I was lying on a bed, a na
ked light bulb dangling above me. I flinched. Was I in jail? For as hard as I tried, I couldn’t remember a thing.
With great effort, I turned my head and squinted. Painfully brilliant sunlight illuminated the room like a giant neon floodlight. Where the hell was I? Nothing looked familiar. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my throat. A pale wooden desk and matching wardrobe faced each other against the cold white walls. Next, I discovered my suitcases sitting beside my books and a pile of my things. Blurry images suddenly flashed through my mind: a box falling, Martha and Caro, orange soda and vodka. Nothing made sense. Two vaguely suspicious male faces appeared and disappeared again in a haze. Who were they? Shit! Like a barrage of firebombs, flashes of memories exploded in my mind, and I leapt out of bed with adrenaline shooting through my veins. I slipped on my jeans, which were hanging on the back of a chair, and a gray t-shirt I found lying on the floor, and froze. Who had undressed me? The room was spinning, and I needed to lean against the wall for support. My mouth felt as dry as the Sahara. Then a name shot like an arrow through my brain, and my stomach heaved. Ben. The nausea became unbearable, and I ran out of the bedroom with my hand pressed to my mouth. Where the hell was the bathroom? Next to the front door was another door that I threw open, hoping for the best. After turning on the light, my stomach heaved again, but for an entirely different reason. I was met with unbearable chaos; towels were haphazardly hung up to dry, and a gray film encircled the bathroom sink. Something vaguely resembling a faucet was covered in a rock-hard white crust. I chanced a look at the shower and discovered the most disgusting shower curtain ever known to man. This must be a nightmare. In my mind, I faintly heard a man’s voice say, “The loser gets to clean the bathroom for a month.”
Those jerks!
But hold on. Who said that I had lost? I felt a faint glimmer of hope rise up inside me. Maybe fate had taken pity on me, and Ben was now laid up somewhere in the ICU after having to have his stomach pumped. I took a few steps into the bathroom. My bare feet stuck to the filthy floor and made a revolting sucking sound as I walked, as if someone had dumped a bottle of glue on the ground. After a brief glance in the mirror, any hopes of having won the battle were dashed—Quasimodo was staring back at me. My brown eyes were bloodshot and had dark bags under them, as if I’d transformed overnight. My light-brown hair stood up in every direction. Oh my God. I looked exactly the way I felt. At least, my nausea was slowly subsiding as long as I didn’t move. But then, I saw a yellow stain on the toilet seat and was again seized with anger. That was the last straw. I shivered with disgust. Bet or no bet, there was no way I was going to clean this pigsty! That simply wasn’t fair of them. I never would’ve agreed to the terms had I dared a single look inside this hellhole. I turned around to get out of the bathroom of horrors as quickly as possible. What I needed was a glass of water, hopefully without running into my new roommates. I didn’t want those two pretty boys to see me at my worst.
