by A. A. Davies
Sniffing me, she shrugs, “I dunno.”
“Can I borrow something to wear?”
She rolls her eyes while walking to her closet. “You know it’s super lame that you don’t live in the dorms, right?”
When she hands me a sundress, I yank it from her hand. It’s not exactly my style, but at least I won’t reek like a ‘rap concert’ as my dad would say. “Not all of us can have chill, rich parents.”
With a smirk, she falls back on the couch as I tug on the floral ensemble. Her dorm door swings open to reveal Jessie’s bitch roommate, Lin, and one of her minions who I haven’t yet had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting.
Lin waves her hand in our direction, barely looking at us. “That’s my roommate and her trashy friend.”
The girl, who’s apparently too good to tell us her name, giggles while pointing to Jessie. “Is that her? The fake Asian?”
Lin nods with a grin, leading her across the room. Being adopted by white parents doesn’t make Jessie any less Vietnamese, and it pisses me off every time Lin says that shit.
Jessie laughs. “I’d rather be a fake Asian than a real cunt.”
I snort as I toss my phone in my purse. Jessie doesn’t need anyone to protect her besides Jessie. Leaving them to offend each other in peace, I make my exit.
“I’ll text you later.”
Rushing down the stairs, I shove open the glass doors of Parkview Hall. The warm Florida air heats my face as I walk to my piece of shit Yaris sitting in the guest parking area.
My mom’s pissed off that I wasn’t home to help with dinner if her passive aggressive texts are any indication, so hopefully Route 41 isn’t backed up, and I’ll at least beat Adam there.
The Glenvar Heights suburb comes into sight at six fifty-three p.m. Seven whole minutes to spare. Unfortunately, my brother’s white Lamborghini, which he refuses to shut the fuck up about, is sitting in our driveway.
The moment I walk inside, my mother crosses her arms. “Oh, I wasn’t sure if we’d be lucky enough to have you join us. I’m glad you could make it.”
I groan and Adam winks at me as he scratches Bucky’s ears. “I was at Jessie’s and lost track of time. Sorry.” Leaning down, I kiss Bucky’s big, furry head, whispering, “Go lay down, buddy.”
“It’s fine, Mom.” Adam chuckles. “She’s in college now, give her a break.” With a grateful smile, I stand to wrap my arms around my big brother. “Hey, Bella Boop.”
I keep thinking he’ll knock it off with that nickname. I’m not freaking five anymore.
My dad walks in, patting Adam on the back. “Good to see you, son. How’s work?”
Adam oddly bristles at the question, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous. “It’s uh…good. Busy as usual.”
The smell of brisket wafts into the living room as my mom clasps her hands together. “Since we’re all finally here, let’s eat.”
Adam drapes his arm over my shoulder, kissing my temple on the way to the kitchen. “How’s school?”
“Boring.” Every day I regret giving in to my parent’s desires instead of pursuing my own. I literally give zero shits about marketing anything, but it was better than nursing.
As usual, the conversation revolves around Adam. Even the food is his favorite. I push around my vegetable medley as my dad asks, “When did you get back from Orlando?”
My ears perk up as I watch Adam’s reaction. He specifically told me he just got back from Jacksonville on Wednesday, and I know he doesn’t travel that much for his job. He’s a cloud engineer, or something like that, for a big energy corporation.
He shoves a bite of brisket into his mouth as soon as he says, “Tuesday afternoon.”
My mouth drops open. That big lying liar. He’s lucky I’ve matured because eight years ago, I would have ratted his ass out. What the hell is going on?
Smiling at me, Adam asks, “What have you been up to these days, Bella Boop?”
My dad scoffs. “Besides being a disappointment?”
While I’m used to my parent’s snide comments, I still flinch. “Nothing special.”
Quickly shifting the conversation to Mom, Adam asks her about the ladies’ group at the church and other stuff I know he doesn’t care about.
I hate broccoli, but Mom will literally not let me get out of this chair if I don’t eat everything on my plate. When I finally swallow the last bite, I cut in the moment my mom’s mouth stops moving for five seconds.
“May I be excused? I have a paper due.”
“It’s Sunday night. It should be finished already.” Dad scolds.
“I’m almost done.”
Adam winks at me when I stand up, defending me as I leave the kitchen. “She’s an adult now, guys. You could cut her some slack.”
“She isn’t acting like it. And as long as she’s still living beneath my roof, she’ll respect our rules,” Dad predictably responds.
Back in my room, my laptop glares at me from my bed. Regardless of what I told my dad, I’m nowhere close to being done with my paper. Bucky’s sprawled across my pillows when I plop down to get it over with.
Just as my eyes are about to crawl out of my head from boredom, there’s a light tap on my door. I sit up as Adam’s dark blond head pokes into my bedroom.
“Hey, have a sec?”
I grin, setting down my laptop to pat the space next to me. “Sure.” He hesitates before finally sitting down. “What is up with you? You’ve been acting kind of weird today. And what’s this about Orlando? I thought you went to Jacksonville?”
His hand rubs the back of his neck as he releases a nervous chuckle. “I got my lies mixed up. There’s something I haven’t told you.” Embarrassment bleeds into his laugh when he says, “I don’t work at Earth Fuel anymore. I quit over a year ago when my comic books got popular.”
My mouth falls open. He’s always liked to mess with that nerdy crap, but Mom and Dad will lose their shit if they find out he gave up the career they paid to educate him for to ‘doodle’.
“How the hell do you afford your fancy apartment?”
He shrugs with a smug smirk. “Like I said, the comics have gotten a lot of traction.”
I’m proud yet simultaneously jealous of my brother for following his dreams. It obviously paid off. While I completely understand why he lied to our parents, I’m a little hurt he wasn’t honest with me.
“Why are you just now telling me?”
He falls back on my bed and reaches over to pet Bucky. “Because I have a proposition for you.”
I lie down next to him, resting my head in my palm. “Oh, yeah?”
His fingers comb through his hair before he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I hate seeing Mom and Dad on your case like they were at dinner. I remember how that felt, and it seems even worse for you.”
“Okay, so?”
“How would you like to move in with me?”
Whoa. Is he serious?! Excitement sends vibrations across my skin. “You really want me living at your house? What about all your ‘guests’?” I smile to soften the unintentional snark in my comment.
“I do have doors. And it’s not like I’d smash in front of you.”
“Ewe!” I grimace even though the mental image angers me more than sickens me.
He laughs one of his deep laughs. “So? What do you say?”
I squeeze him tight with my hug. All I want to do is start packing. “Mom and Dad are going to freak.”
“Let me talk to them. When do you want to move in?”
“Tomorrow?”
Leaning up on his elbow, he smiles. “You have school, I don’t want to mess with that. How about this weekend?”
I hug him again because this is probably the nicest thing he’s ever done for me. “Thank you, Adam.”
IV: Roommate
Adam
The conversation with my parents could have gone better, though, ultimately, they knew it was Isabela’s choice. I didn’t go to dinner last week
with the intention of asking her to move in, it’s just always broken my heart, the way they treat her. They were strict with me, too, but no matter what she does, they scrutinize it. I saw the way her face fell when Dad called her a ‘disappointment’, and it took everything in me not to go off.
Sitting on the now stripped bed, I stare at the bare walls of what will be her room. I’m excited to have her here with me. Even if the guilt from using her photo to masturbate multiple times sits heavy in my stomach. I’m hoping her being here will make it too weird for that to continue. It’s not as if I intend on using her picture. I’ll start watching regular porn, then the hornier I get, I move on to incest porn, until finally I just want to see her face so I can come. Afterwards, I always feel like a scumbag, yet I continue to repeat the cycle.
The doorbell rings, and I nearly run to answer it. Isabela’s standing in the hall next to her friend, wearing a grin and skimpy shorts.
“Hey, Bella Boop. Hey, Jessie.”
Jessie flutters her lashes and bites her lip. “Hi, Adam,”
Isabela rolls her eyes, walking inside without an invitation. “Hey, bro.”
I lead them down the hall, and Jessie whistles when I open the bedroom door. “This place is nice, Bells. Imagine how much more narwhal stuff you could fit in here.”
Isabela laughs, falling back on the bed as I leave them to discuss the decorating possibilities.
It’s another hour and a half before the movers arrive, giving me some time to get a head start on my newest Zombie Princess issue.
When Isabela’s things finally get here and everything is unloaded into her new room, I order her favorite takeout for dinner.
Once it’s delivered, I set up the food on the coffee table and make my way back to her room.
Her things are partially unpacked, strung haphazardly all over the space with empty boxes stacked in the corner. “I ordered Golden Shenzhen, you guys hungry?”
Isabela pumps her fist as Jessie stands up, stretching with a groan. “Actually, I have a date tonight, I need to go get ready.”
After Jessie leaves, Isabela meets me in the kitchen. “Thank you for this, Adam. It’s going to be amazing living without Mom and Dad breathing down my neck every day.”
I pick up our plates, handing her one as I shrug. “At least you’re less annoying than you used to be.”
With a playful gape, she shoves my arm. “You dick. I’ve never been annoying.”
Chuckling, I grab the chopsticks and walk to the living room, pointing toward the TV as I sit on the couch. “I have most streaming services. Pick whatever.”
“I have most streaming services,” she mimics, piling food onto her plate. “God, you’re so old.” My eyes narrow as I grab a pot sticker off her plate and shove it into my mouth. “Hey! Asshole.”
“You aren’t allowed to cuss,” I say around the dumpling. She almost makes me choke the way she glares at me. Swallowing it down, I laugh. “I’m just giving you shit.”
She picks a show about a guy who stalks and kills people all because he’s obsessed with some girl.
“It’s kind of romantic, though, right?” she swoons.
I shake my head. ‘Romantic’ isn’t the adjective that comes to mind. “Twenty bucks says this bitch is dead by the end of the season.”
She kicks me with a laugh. “I’ll take that bet. There’s no way. He’s in love with her.”
Once the food is gone, Isabela takes a shower as I clean up the food and grab the bottle of tequila. When she returns, she raises an eyebrow at me pouring our shots.
“We need to get you unpacked. The best way to do that is drunk. Bottoms up, Bella Boop.”
V: Old Photograph
Isabela
I had no idea I owned so much stuff.
“What the hell is this?” Adam asks as he removes my collagen lip mask from a box.
I snatch it out of his hand. “It makes my lips soft and kissable.” I give him a smoochy face and snort at his glare.
“We should probably set some ground rules. No boys is the first one that comes to mind.”
Well, that’s bullshit. “So, then you can’t bring dates here either?”
He scowls as he unpacks my birth control, staring at the pills like he’s trying to set them on fire with his eyes. “Oh, no. I’ll definitely have women over. I’m the adult, and this is my apartment.”
Asshole. I shove him, but he ignores it as he stands up to leave my room. Crossing my arms, I follow right behind him. “I’m an adult too. And I thought we were going to be like roommates. Roommates don’t have double standards. Parents do.”
His steps falter for a moment, which I hope means my words are sinking in. We’re equals. Him being older shouldn’t matter. “We’ll see, okay? How about neither of us bring home friends of the opposite sex for a while.”
As soon as we reach the kitchen, he pours yet more shots, and I roll my eyes. He’s going to learn quickly that I won’t let him control me like I let Mom and Dad. I reach for the shot glass and throw it back. The room around me is already a little wobbly, however, I’m not about to let my ancient big brother outdrink me.
I go back to my new room and pick up the box of beauty products Adam was going through. There’s not enough space to fit the box next to the nightstand, so I scoot the table over. When I do, something peeks out, stuck between the wall and the nightstand. Reaching out, I grab it to see it’s an old photograph. I run my fingers over the glossy image.
It’s a picture of a blonde girl, maybe middle school age, with hideous fashion sense. She’s wearing a fishnet crop top, smiling beneath the rim of a Von Dutch trucker hat. Even though I don’t remember ever seeing her before, there’s definitely a familiarity about her.
Adam walks in, and I immediately wave the photo next to his face. “Who’s this?”
He scrunches his eyebrows, yanking it from my hand. For a second, all expression is wiped from his face, then he shrugs and gives it back to me. “She’s an old friend from school.” Looking over his shoulder, he nods toward the hall. “Another shot?”
We literally just got done taking one. “Sure.”
He nearly sprints from my room, and the glasses are already poured when I meet him back in the kitchen. I toss the photo on the counter as he throws back his shot.
“Is there any way we can finish this tomorrow?” I ask. “I’m over it for tonight.”
He chuckles as he picks up the bottle and shot glasses. “No complaint on my end.”
Following him into the living room, I sit on the couch when I realize issues of his comics are displayed beneath the glass of the coffee table. I didn’t notice them earlier because of the Chinese food.
“So these are why you quit your fancy job?”
He plops down next to me. “Yep.”
“And you’re the illustrator?”
He’s always had this embarrassed laugh that I think is so cute. “Yeah. I write the dialogue too…you want to look at one?”
I think the alcohol is fucking with me, because for some reason, my stomach tingles, giving me the desire to giggle. I suddenly want to touch him, and I can’t explain why. Scooting closer, I comb my fingers through his dark blond hair. “I’d love to.”
With the way he’s looking at me and his hesitancy to move, I feel like I’ve made him uncomfortable, so I pull my hand away. He eventually stands and walks across the room to a cabinet, taking a box from the very top shelf.
“This is the first issue.” Sitting next to me, he hands me the comic. The color scheme consists mostly of vibrant pastels. The main character, Zibby, has lilac patchwork skin and very pale pink hair. He won’t hear this from me because he’s already way too conceited, but his take on surrealism is adorable and impressively well done. “She’s supposed to become the Zombie Queen, but she doesn’t want the crown, so she does everything in her power to piss off her parents in hopes they’ll strip her of her title.”
As I read through the story, I realize I can relate to h
er a lot. She even has an older brother. “Gotta say, I like this Zibby girl’s style.”
“Well that’s good because she’s you. Or rather, inspired by you.”
It’s as if a bubble forms in my heart and explodes little emotion crystals everywhere.
His beautiful smile makes my skin burn with hot little pricks. I have no idea what I’m feeling. I can’t decide if I want to laugh, cry, or…
Suddenly, the urge to kiss him overtakes me, and before I even question it, I grab his face and press my lips to his. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what’s going on with me, so I ignore every thought telling me I’m losing my mind.
His hands wrap around my arms as he pushes me away. Without speaking, his blue eyes scan mine with…I can’t place it. It’s not sadness exactly, however it’s definitely not happiness. Abruptly, he cups the back of my neck and kisses me. Hard.
The second his tongue licks at mine, it’s as if his mind snaps him back to reality. He jumps off the couch, jabbing his finger toward the hall. “Go to your room.”
His command leaves no space for argument which pisses me off because he’s acting exactly like Dad.
“Are you fucking seri—”
“Now, Isabela.” His fists are balled up at his sides, and even though he orders through clenched teeth, there’s something more than anger in his tone.
I do as he says, but not without giving him the finger on the way to my room. In a huff, I rip off my clothes, crawling into bed wearing nothing more than my underwear.
Even though half my brain is grateful he stopped me before things went too far, the other half is pissed because the way he kissed me proved that he wanted it as much as I did. I toss and turn for at least half an hour before the guilt sets in.
Getting out of bed, I throw on a shirt to go apologize. I’d put him in an extremely uncomfortable situation, and that wasn’t fair. His room is on the opposite end of the hall, and when I reach his door, I softly knock.
