by S. M. Shade
“Great, when do you want to move in?”
My mind spins, trying to add up numbers in my head. “I need to see how much to rent a truck and…”
“Don’t be silly. Trey has a truck. I’ll grab the guys, and we can get your stuff in no time. You’re moving out of a dorm, you said?”
“Sort of. I just have a bed, dresser, clothes and stuff.”
“No problem. How about tomorrow afternoon? I’m off work.”
I don’t have any clients scheduled for tomorrow and my last class of the summer session was yesterday. “One o’clock?”
“Works for me.” He smiles down at me, extending his hand.
My eyes are drawn to the little dimple. I’d like to stick my tongue in it. Instead, I shake his hand. “I won’t be sleeping with you or the other two. Just getting that out there.”
“Good, my bed is small anyway.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
This is either going to get me through the school year, or it’ll be another giant mistake to add to my ever growing list.
Chapter Two
Denton
It never occurred to me a woman would answer the ad for a roommate, much less a girl I just met. No wonder she turned me down. No one is thinking about dating when they’re preoccupied by approaching homelessness. Not that it matters now. Getting involved with a roommate would be insane. Like moving in with a girl after the first date.
Kenny and Trey may not see it that way, but I’m going to make sure they know what’s up from the beginning. While both of them are at the table eating breakfast, I take the opportunity.
“Listen, we need some ground rules when it comes to Becca moving in here.”
Kenny rolls his eyes. “Is this another Mom talk?”
Sometimes, I want to strangle him. Kenny is only a few years younger than me, but you wouldn’t know it. His parents had to threaten to cut him off before he straightened up enough just to pass his classes. He’s nicknamed me Mom because I tried to talk to him when I saw it coming. Noble has been dubbed Dad for the same reason.
“What’s up?” Trey asks, dumping his empty cereal bowl in the sink.
“She needs a place to stay, and we need a fourth to cover rent and bills. I don’t want anything screwing this up for her sake and ours. So, no hitting on her and definitely no fucking her.”
Trey grabs his keys from the counter. “No problem. Not looking for a live-in girlfriend.”
Kenny snorts and crosses his arms. “Does that apply to you too?”
“Of course it does.”
“Well, I think that should be her decision.”
He always has to argue, and I don’t know why I thought it’d be any different this time. “Do you want to have to come up with the extra money every month if you scare her away? Because I know your parents aren’t going to cough it up.”
He glares at me. “Fuck, I barely have enough to get through the week now.” After a short pause, he adds, “Fine, I won’t try anything, but I’m not changing how I act because there’s a chick around.”
Trey slaps his shoulder on his way out. “Maybe keep the jacking off in your room.”
“Fuck off.”
“Alright. We agree she’s off limits. Swear on the bro code,” I insist.
“On the bro code,” they repeat.
Kenny shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his face. “We should have a party to introduce her to The Circle.”
“That’s not a bad idea, once she gets settled in.”
His smile expands as he gets to his feet. Kenny will take any excuse for a party which is what almost cost him his credits last semester. “Are you still free to help?” I ask Trey as he heads out the back door.
“I’ll be here by twelve-thirty.”
I have a half shift at the car wash this morning and by the time I get there it’s already over ninety degrees.
Veronica waves at me and calls out, “Want to spray today?”
“I could kiss you!” I shout back. Spraying the cars before they go onto the track means I’ll get the mist of the water keeping me cool. I haven’t been working here long. It’s my last year of school and I couldn’t take working in the financial aid office anymore, just sitting there bored all day. I thought something active and outside would be a good choice.
Veronica’s boyfriend, Neal, owns the place and they only moved from Violent Circle a couple of months ago. It’s not a bad job when the weather cooperates, but I have to wonder how I’ll feel when it’s cold or pouring rain. Or both.
There’s no worry of that today. Sweat pours off of me the entire time I’m working, and we’re so busy, I don’t realize it’s time to go until the last minute.
When I pull up at the apartment, Trey is waiting for me, and I send a quick text to Becca to let her know we’re on our way.
“So, what do you know about this chick?”
His question makes me realize I know nothing. “Not much. Just that she needs a place to stay and isn’t afraid of living with guys.”
“Kenny might be a problem.”
And that might be the most uttered sentence in our place the last year. “Let’s hope not.”
The dorms are pretty much empty when we arrive, and Becca flings open the door as soon as we knock. She’s been busy, judging by the pile of boxes and the disassembled bed waiting for us.
“Thanks for this,” she says, nodding at both Trey and me.
“No problem,” I reply.
“We can get this in one trip,” Trey adds, grabbing a few slats from the bed and heading out the door.
It doesn’t take us long to get the truck loaded up, and we start to gather the last few boxes and odds and ends that Becca is bringing in her car.
“What the hell is that?” Trey exclaims, jumping back.
“What?” Becca asks absently, her arms full of clothes on hangers.
Trey eyes the box like it’s a snake that may strike him. “That…thing. It’s awful.”
Becca and I step closer and she gives Trey a perplexed look. “That’s Beulah. I’ve had her since I was little.”
A doll sits propped up in a box, its small mouth hanging open, displaying a gray tongue that matches the dingy color of the rest of its body. One eye is three quarters closed, and the other is a bright blue orb staring into my soul. Rows of puncture marks line the top of the forehead where some of the hair has fallen out. The remaining hair is a matted dark mess.
I don’t blame Trey for his reaction. It’s horrifying. “Did you try to throw it away and it kept coming back?” I ask.
She snorts and picks up the horror show she calls a doll. “It’s not evil. It just needs a little cleaning.”
“Or an exorcism,” Trey grumbles, scooping up another box.
Becca grins and shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not haunted. I mean, it does seem to show up in places I don’t remember putting it, but I assume it’s just me doing it when I sleepwalk.”
Trey looks at me, and we both burst out laughing at the horror in his expression. “Dude, we’re going to have a demonic doll living with us and a girl zombie shuffling through the house at night. I’m getting a lock for my door.”
He stalks out to load the last box onto the truck, and I grin at Becca. “Do you really sleepwalk?”
Shrugging, she throws a smile back over her shoulder as she heads out the door. “Sometimes.”
Kenny glares at us from the couch as we unload the truck at our apartment, but when his gaze falls on Becca, it’s more of a leer. He doesn’t say anything, and Becca ignores his existence. “Thanks for the help,” she tells me and Trey, when the last box finds its way into her new room.
“No problem,” Trey replies, and makes a quick exit.
She starts laying out the slats to her bed, and I fetch our toolbox. “I can put it together,” she says, when she sees I plan to help.
“It’s big and awkward. We can do it faster togeth
er.”
Her shoulders give an almost imperceptible shrug. “Okay, thanks.” She glances at her phone when it beeps. “My late appointment just asked to reschedule so I guess I have all night to get unpacked.”
She grabs one of the side rails and holds it even while I screw on the brackets. “Where do you work?” I ask.
“Eternity Ink.”
My eyes are drawn to her arms which both boast half sleeves of vibrant tattoos. “Are you an artist?”
“Yeah, I mostly work by appointment, so it helps me work around my school schedule.” She moves to position the headboard correctly while I screw it on. “What do you do?”
“I’m going for my Master’s in Advertising. This is my last year. And I work part time at Jetsky’s Car Wash.”
“What about the other guys? Are you all students?”
Brushing my hands on my jeans, I grab one of the slats, and we put them in place. “Yes, Trey works at Tasty Tacos, and majors in video game design. Kenny works at Lacy’s Party Supply and takes general ed courses. He’s a Sophomore.”
“Video game design huh? That’s awesome. He must be a good graphic artist.”
“Oh hell no. If anyone is awesome here, it’s me. I’m a better graphic artist than him any day.”
She snorts at my response. “I imagine you’d have to be decent to work in advertising. You have to make all those annoying pop up ads and banners.” There’s a teasing glint in her eye as we lift her mattress onto the bed.
“Says the woman who draws pictures and colors them in for a living.”
“And there goes your chance at a free tattoo.”
I stand back against the doorway with my arms crossed as she digs out her sheets and makes her bed. “Don’t let my expression fool you. I’m overcome with disappointment.”
Tossing her pillows into place, she grins. “Do you have any ink?”
“No,” I lie, because there’s no way I’m telling her about that. “I like how it looks on others—yours are beautiful—but it’s not my thing.”
She pulls a box up onto her bed and starts unpacking it. Damn, she’s sexy. I’m not usually into the thin, willowy types, but she’s so damned adorable. She’s tiny, maybe five foot two or three, with dark brown hair and a fair complexion. A tiny green bar extends over one eyebrow, and the flash of silver when she talks shows me she has a tongue piercing as well. I wonder if she has anything pierced below the waist.
“Hey, I’ve got it from here, so anytime you want to take that creepy stare somewhere else, I’m good.”
Busted. “I was just thinking, not being creepy.”
“Then you have resting creep face. I’m not judging. Resting bitch face is great for keeping people away when I don’t want to talk to them.”
Chuckling, I pick up the toolbox and head for the door. “You don’t have much of a filter, do you?”
Shrugging, she turns to put a stack of clothes into her dresser drawer. “It comes and goes. Thanks for the help.”
“Sure.”
Trey and Kenny sit on the couch, playing a first person shooter on the T.V. “I thought we had a deal,” Kenny says, casting a glare in my direction.
Flopping into the recliner, I pick up my phone to play around online. “What are you talking about?”
“No hitting on the new girl.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. “I wasn’t hitting on her. I helped her put her bed together.”
“Yeah, exactly, just out of the kindness of your heart, right?” he scoffs. Kenny has always been a bit immature and hard to handle, but lately, my tolerance has grown less and less. He’s such a petulant little brat.
“I helped you put your bed together when you moved in.” Forcing a grin, I raise an eyebrow at him. “So, I guess I must be into you too. Why don’t you come give me a blowie?”
Trey laughs and takes the opportunity to blow up Kenny’s character onscreen. “Fuck off,” Kenny grumbles. “When are we having that party?”
“I don’t know. She’s been here a whole hour.”
The party isn’t a bad idea. Violent Circle is a unique neighborhood, and it’s better if she gets to know everyone now, before something strange freaks her out or scares her off.
A couple of hours pass while we play games, then switch to a movie, and I’m starting to wonder if she just plans to stay in her room all the time when I hear the shower kick on. A few minutes later, she walks in, dressed in leggings and an oversized shirt. Her damp hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail that swings as she sits cross legged on the end of the couch, a sketch pad in her lap.
She doesn’t say anything, just gets to work drawing while we watch the movie. After a couple of minutes, Kenny turns to her. “Are you drawing me?”
It takes a moment for her to even realize he’s talking to her. She was in the zone. She sure as hell wasn’t looking at him. “What? No. Why would I draw you?”
“Because I’m the best looking thing in the room. That’s why you keep looking at me.”
Trey and I both shoot him scathing looks, but they bounce right off of him.
Without so much as a glance at Kenny, she returns her gaze to her sketch book. “I’m sketching tattoo ideas. And I can’t imagine a person self-loathing enough to want a permanent reminder of you.” The words come in a bored, monotone manner, as if she’s only stating the truth.
Damn. Can you say shot down?
Trey slides a hand across his face, hiding his smile.
Kenny glares at her. “Women love me. I get more ass than a park bench.”
“Congratulations on all the ass,” she murmurs, still focused on her work.
I love the way she’s handling him. He’s been leering at her and took the first chance he had to try to make her uncomfortable. Instead of rising to the bait, she’s acting like he’s just a nuisance, a fly to swat away before returning to the thing that matters.
Lost for words, he fumes, and Trey steps in. “Have your classes at the Art Institute already started? We don’t go back to school for another month or so.”
Becca lifts her eyes from her paper to regard Trey. “I took a summer session, so I could remain in the dorms. It just ended, and the next semester doesn’t start until mid-September.”
“That’s cool. At least you get a break,” Trey replies.
“Yeah, I’ll be working a lot, though. When all the college kids come back to town, my appointments should pick up.” She gives him a reluctant grin. “And I need the money, obviously.”
Chuckling, Trey nods. “You’ll fit right in. We’re all broke here.”
Kenny doesn’t try to talk to her again for the rest of the evening, and it’s peaceful enough, all of us hanging in the living room, her drawing while we watch TV. Trey lights a joint at one point, and she shakes her head when it’s offered to her, but she doesn’t seem to care. I’d kill for the kind of laser focus she has when she’s sketching.
Finally, she closes her notebook and gets to her feet. “I’m going to crash. Good night, guys.”
“Good night,” Trey and I answer almost in unison.
“She seems okay,” Trey says after she’s shut her bedroom door.
“Yeah, I think it’ll work out. And she’s already paid her part of this month’s rent, so we don’t have to struggle to scrape it together.”
“Good,” Trey replies. “I was afraid I was going to have to sell some dick.”
“How much are the guys paying now?”
He scoffs. “You know the girls line up.”
“Don’t worry, it’s only gay if you take off your socks.”
Tilting his head, he pretends to size me up. “You could probably earn some food stamps if you stand outside the liquor store. Not the good liquor store, the one with the bars on the windows.”
“Says the man built like a bean bag chair.”
Our first week with our new roommate has gone well. She settles into a routine that seems to include working from early morning to late at night every day. By the
time she comes home, she eats, spends maybe a few minutes hanging out with us in the living room, then goes to bed. Kenny makes a few more half assed attempts to hit on her, but she shrugs them off, and he’s switched to pretending she doesn’t exist.
“Do you ever get a day off?” I ask, falling onto the couch next to her.
“Actually, I’m off all weekend. I’ve been hogging all the walk-ins, so I need to give my partner a chance, and I don’t have any scheduled appointments.”
“Good time for a party, then, so we can introduce you to the neighborhood.”
She shrugs. “Don’t go to any trouble.”
“Psh, we can throw together a party in no time. Does tomorrow night work for you, then?”
“Can I invite someone?”
The sudden shard of jealousy in my stomach is completely ridiculous. “Of course. A date?”
“Nope, a friend. Sasha. She’s my partner at Eternity Ink.” She gets to her feet and stretches. “I’m going to go sleep for about twelve hours. Good night.”
“Night.”
I’d like to say I didn’t notice her nice little ass clad in yoga pants as she walked away from me, but I do manage not to stare. Off limits. Live-in roommate, bro code and all that.
Chapter Three
Becca
Living here hasn’t been bad so far. Kenny is a prick, but I can ignore him. It’s the cheapest place I’ve lived in, and if I keep working like this, I’ll have enough saved up to cover the rest of my tuition and supplies by the fall semester.
I’m a little worried because I expected to schedule a lot more appointments over the next few weeks. For some reason, business is dying down. I know it isn’t a matter of clients not being happy with my work since I get more repeat business than any other kind. Maybe everyone else is struggling with money right now too. I’m sure the cuts in financial aid affected a lot of students.
On top of that, my car has been acting up. It’s always something.
My phone rings just as I’m getting into bed and my dad’s face appears on the screen. Only took him two days to call me back this time. “Hey Dad.”
