My Alien Roommate

by Tracy Lauren

  “Bus pass or exact change, friend. Then I’m going to need you to take your seat.”

  Ah, he wishes for tender in exchange for the opportunity to take part in this journey. I extract a stack of bills from my pocket and the pilot’s eyes go wide.

  “Will this do?” I question.

  “Man, put that down.” He shoots his eyes over to the other passengers. “This is a safe town, but you’re asking to get robbed waving a wad of cash like that around.”

  I frown. No one would steal from me. I would not allow such a thing. But I do not bother telling this to the concerned pilot. Instead, I focus on the task at hand. “How much currency is required for me to take a ride in your vessel?”

  “Two-fifty.”

  I pull out two bills. “Like this?”

  The male frowns at me. “Man, you got to be pulling my leg. Get out of here and quit wasting my time. I have a schedule to keep. You can Uber with all that dough.”

  He shifts a lever and the door swings back open. I am dismayed. He is denying me my ride. “Ah well, perhaps another time then.” For now, it is not in my cards. “Farewell!” I call out, but before I depart, I remember my Earth vids. “May your travels be safe—partner.” I tip the brim of my hat.

  The pilot assesses me from head to toe and a slow smile crosses his face. I can tell he is pleased with my use of regional dialect. “Yeah, you too, partner.” He’s shaking his head and laughing when the door hisses shut.

  I’m feeling a sense of accomplishment even if I wasn’t able to procure a ride. At the very least I had a human interaction that concluded successfully. All the more reason to be optimistic. I step back out onto the pedestrian thoroughfare, not interested in returning to my place on the bench. I wish for more interactions.

  Just then, a female strides past me and something about her scent is intriguing.

  “Pardon me, ma’am.”

  She jerks to a halt and looks around to confirm that I am indeed speaking to her. When she sees that I am she beams a friendly smile in my direction and tosses her long hair over her shoulder, assessing me from head to toe. “Wow. Hi.” Much of her face is obstructed by darkened goggles, but it does not matter, I am staring at the cup in her hand anyway.

  “What is it you have there?” I question.

  “This? It’s a latte from Vices.” She points at a building up the road and I inhale deeply, catching the heady scent. “I could walk you over if you need help finding the place,” she offers.

  “I will be able to find its location,” I assure her, but she does seem helpful, so perhaps I can pose another question?

  “Tell me, where does one go to find available females in this city?”

  Her grin becomes warmer still. “Well, coffee shops are a great place, bars too. But you never know, you might just meet someone walking down the street…”

  “Latte, Vices, coffee shops, bars…” I commit these things to memory. “Thank you for your guidance, I will allow you to return to your business.” I turn on my heel and aim myself toward this Vices. The female lets out a huff, but I am no longer paying her any mind. Vices has my attention. The closer I get to the building, the more the scent intrigues me, practically carrying me forward.

  I read the signage above the door. Vices Coffee. I stop a patron outside. “Is this a coffee shop?”

  The male’s eyes go wide and he’s silent for a moment before he answers. “Yeah.” He holds up his cup as proof. My chest swells. This is a location in which one might find a mate. And they have lattes.

  I grasp the male by the arm, looking at him very seriously. “Were there females inside?”

  He blinks at me. “Uh…yeah?”

  “Fertile?”

  I am met with more blinking. “Legit, I have no clue how to answer that, man.”

  While he seems physically fit for a human, this male looks unkempt, with longish and messy hair, sun-touched skin, and pale blue eyes. He carries the scent of the sea on him and wears nothing but a pair of shoes that flop with each step and his shorts appear to have recently been used as swimwear. I do a mental tally. No hat. No boots. Not a single piece of hide on him. Nor has he referred to me as partner. Hm, he must not be what females appreciate in a male. “Never mind,” I tell him, not wishing to highlight his own lack of prowess. Besides, this is an answer I can discover for myself.

  I pull the door wide and am met with a wave of the heavenly aroma that must be coffee. My pupils dilate as I scan the room. There are many people here and the variety of odors confuse my senses. Visually I dissect the room, focusing on the females. Some are here with their mates, or I assume so by the way they link fingers with one another. But unfortunately, I am not drawn to any of the single ones. Some have manes that are too crisp or they tote heavily loaded bags, reminding me of the merchants of Veil, who carry all their wares piled high onto their backs. And more still are far too young for my tastes.

  I frown unhappily. I had hoped to engage with a female here. But not all is lost. There is still a latte to request. I find the end of the queue and continue my assessment of this place and the people within. Many humans wear goggles, I see. Some darkened, others clear. The clear ones even seem to magnify the wearer’s eyes. Interesting trend.

  But the more I look around, the more the baggage situation begins to stand out to me. Literally every female in the room has a bag on her arm. Some are large, others are small. It almost seems as if they are travelers—though they pack much more heavily than I do. I’ve brought nothing with me but money, a personal comm, and the clothes on my back. If these females are travelers, then why are they here, I wonder? Perhaps this is a place I can inquire about lodging?

  When it’s my turn to approach the servant at the counter I request my beverage before I make my lodging inquiry.

  “Do you provide rooms to travelers?”

  The young male’s brows furrow. “Are you looking for like…a hotel for a couple nights?”

  “No, something more long term,” I tell him.

  “Oh, like an apartment?” He nods as if he’s understanding me now and gestures toward the wall behind me. “I think Sarah put something up on the bulletin board.”

  I abandon my place in line and go to the board to scrutinize these bulletins. Many are for lost pets or business ventures. But I see one with a photograph of a dwelling on it.

  Professional female seeking female.

  Well, this is exactly what I need. A professional at seeking females!

  “You!” I call to the coffee servant. “I will take two of your lattes as well as this bulletin.”

  I push past the others at the counter. “Can you help me navigate to this location?”

  “Uh, you could just call?”

  “They will hear me from here?”

  “No, like…on the phone”

  Phone. Is that like a comm system, I wonder? But I cannot be sure, so I shake my head.

  “Oh. Um, okay. Here…” The male grabs the lodging advertisement, flipping it over and taking a writing implement to its back. “Okay, so you’re on Main Street right now. All you have to do is cut down Ivy, go three blocks, then make a left. You’ll see the building. It’ll be on your right-hand side.”

  Two tall, steaming cups are passed in my direction and I pull another bill from my pocket, hoping this establishment will accept my payment.

  “Do you have anything smaller than a hundred?” the young male asks.

  “It is my understanding that the bills only come in one size.”

  He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it again and takes my payment. It is a relief. Now I have a potential room set up and a latte to bring as a good will offering.

  “Hey, so are you like an actor or something?”

  “No. I am definitely a human.” I tip my hat just like they do in the entertainment vids and grab my lattes, before hurrying to the door. I cast a quick glance at myself in the reflective glass surface to ensure none of my disguise has faded, but it looks as human and impecca
ble as ever. I wonder why that young one was suspicious of my disguise?

  It does not matter, I tell myself. No one else has been. I will simply have to avoid Vices so he does not have the chance to grow increasingly suspicious. But when I take the first tentative drink of my latte, I realize how difficult that will prove to be.

  I must get the extra cup to this professional female seeker before it grows cold. Carefully balancing the beverages in one hand I gaze at the crudely scrawled map and point myself in the direction of my destiny.

  Chapter 4

  Carly

  “Is this it?” Brad asks, grabbing Sarah’s purse and one last duffle bag.

  “Yeah, that’s the last of it,” she tells him with a sad smile. I shove my hands into my pockets and rock on my toes. It’s still so hard to believe she’s leaving. Brad steps out to put the last items in his trunk and Sarah and I are left alone together.

  “End of an era, huh?”

  Sarah’s eyes glisten and she wraps me in a sisterly hug. “Oh my God, I’m going to miss you so bad!”

  “I’ll be up in a few weeks to visit,” I assure. “And I’m going to text you like every day.”

  “It’s so weird though. I never thought this would end. Weren’t we supposed to end up old cat ladies together?”

  “God, I hope not.”

  Sarah sniffles and pulls away. “I’m worried about you,” she confesses.

  “Dude, I don’t even have a cat.”

  “Not that. I mean…with the rent.” Sarah digs in her pocket and pulls out what looks like a couple hundred-dollar bills.

  “Whoa, no, no no. Put that away.”

  “‘Please, Carly, I feel like I’m leaving you high and dry.”

  Maybe a little, but I can’t take my friend’s money. She’s just starting her life with Brad; I don’t want to take anything from her. I’ll find a way to make ends meet. Besides, I don’t want her to leave here feeling like I’m a burden. That’s not how I want our time together to come to an end.

  “First of all, your name isn’t even on the lease. Second of all, you are allowed to move on with your life Sarah. You’re engaged, for goodness sake. You don’t have anything keeping you locked down here.”

  “My best friend is here.”

  “And I’ll always be here for you, no matter how much distance is between us.”

  She still looks unsure as she grips the wadded-up bills in her hand. “No one took any of the tabs from the flyer at the coffee shop, Carly. What if you can’t get a roommate before next month?”

  “Sarah, calm down. Look at this.” I dig my cell phone out of my back pocket and hold it up for her to see. There are eight voicemails in my inbox. “I haven’t called anyone back yet because I wanted to focus on us these past two weeks. But the second you and Brad leave I’m returning these calls. I’ll have a roommate in no time,” I promise.

  Relief washes over Sarah’s naturally beautiful face. “Oh thank God!”

  “See, nothing to worry about.” I take her hand and force her to put her cash back into her pocket. Reluctantly, she concedes and the door swings open.

  “All packed up,” Brad tells us. His expression is tempered, as if he’s excited, but doesn’t want to rub in the fact that he’s making off with my best friend.

  “Why is everyone so morose?” I complain. “This is exciting! I’m happy for you guys, you don’t have to tiptoe around me!” Brad breaks into that boyish grin that Sarah loves so much and he rakes his fingers through his hair.

  “I feel like I’m stealing her from you, Carly.”

  I scoff. “Well, you should, but it’s fine. I plan on stealing her back plenty. Just wait for that bachelorette party,” I warn. “Now smile, you dummies. You’re making me feel all sad and weird, like we’re never going to see each other again. You realize it’s literally less than four weeks until I come visit you guys in San Francisco, right?”

  Sarah shakes herself. “Gah, you’re right. I’m being silly.”

  “Completely. Now smile, so I know Brad isn’t kidnapping you. Or…give me a signal if he’s taking you against your will.”

  Sarah guffaws. “Should I use a code word?” she offers.

  “Code word?” Brad questions.

  “Don’t you dare!” I warn Sarah, plugging my ears.

  “What is it?” Brad presses, but Sarah makes a locking motion over her lips and tosses away the key.

  I grin over the memories it brings up, all the silly, late-night giggle sessions we’ve had over the years. Our code words aren’t so much true code words as they are just gross things we’d be hard pressed to ever utter in public. It all started with moist. Then there was titillating. Ugh, that one makes my skin crawl. And bulbous, phlegm, smear, secrete, coagulate… Oh man, the list goes on. I can just picture us on the living room floor, laughing to the point of tears over some of those awful words. Even now, I have to laugh aloud.

  “Go on, get out of here,” I tell them, before the goodbye drags on for too long. “I have phone calls to make.”

  Sarah gives me one last hug and when I release her I steer her toward Brad.

  “Just don’t replace me with someone too cool,” she pleads.

  “Ooooo, I didn’t think of it like that. This is like shopping for an all new best friend. I can upgrade!”

  “Hey, I take offense to that,” Brad puts in. “No such thing as upgrading perfection.”

  I make a gagging motion and roll my eyes. “He has to say that because you’re getting married,” I inform Sarah…but he’s not wrong. There’s no replacing her.

  “Shut up.” Sarah swats at me, laughing.

  “Don’t be surprised if next time we talk, Sarah 2.0 has moved in.”

  “You have to promise me one thing,” my best friend tells me seriously. “No Sarahs. I’m a jealous bitch and if you have a new Sarah in here next month I’m going to have to hate her on principle alone.”

  It’s a promise that’s easy to make. “Cross my heart. Now get out of here.”

  “Fine, but we should—” Sarah’s words are cut short when Brad scoops her into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she squeals, delighted.

  “I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

  “That’s not how it works, dumbass,” I tease.

  “Don’t take this from me. I want all the thresholds,” Sarah insists and I grin. That does sound kind of nice.

  I give my friend a kiss on the cheek and side-hug Brad, before he carries my friend to their happily ever after. “Text me to let me know you made it safe!” I call, then I shut the door behind them, my smile lingering.

  Fuck, I’m going to miss that girl.

  I look down at my phone, toying with it before I finally clear my voicemail box. I kind of gave Sarah a little white lie back there. I might have had eight voicemails, but that’s only because I hadn’t deleted a week’s worth of telemarketing calls. Not a single person has called about renting her room.

  I head over to the balcony in time to see Brad’s car pulling away from the curb and I let out a soft sigh. I’m happy for them and I refuse to let my coiling fear about next month’s rent ruin that joy.

  I’ll do what I have to for the next few months, until a fresh batch of college students roll into town right before the fall quarter starts. Maybe I can get a third job until then? I could do Uber or Instacart during the day. It wouldn’t interfere with my bartending gig—which is my big money maker. Still…I wonder if it will get in the way of my dream job?

  I turn and head back inside, ready to Google how to become an Instacart shopper. Do you get to pick your own schedule, I wonder? My other job, the one I really care about is…unreliable at best and is usually more regular in the winter months. Flu season, when the teachers in the district struggle to keep the revolving door of sickness at bay. Yup, my sad little dream job is being a substitute teacher in one of the most expensive towns in the whole state.

  Well, that’s not entirely true. I want to be a ful
l-time science teacher at the middle school. But those jobs are so coveted and you basically have to wait for someone to retire for a position to become available. So, I sub in the meantime, and try to build a positive reputation with the principal and teaching staff. That way if a job does open up, I’ll hopefully be at the forefront of people’s minds.

  Too bad being a bartender doesn’t do the best for my reputation in that sense. Still, it’s the only way I can afford to live in this town. And at least it’s better than working at the Spearmint Rhino. I flip open my laptop, fulling intending to Google Instacart, but instead Google how much strippers make in a month. My jaw drops.

  Money like that would be nice, but then I’d pretty much have to kiss my hopes for working with the district goodbye. And wouldn’t Shawn love to see me swoop so low? I roll my eyes over the thought of my judgy ex and open another search tab to Google Instacart. Money is nice, but if I really want to be a middle school science teacher, I need to accept a life where it’s a novelty. Besides, I didn’t come all this way just to give up on my dream. No, I’ve already sacrificed too much for it.

  Hmpf, I grimace at my laptop screen. Not surprisingly, Instacart shoppers make far less than strippers. A sudden knock at the door startles me and I wonder who it could be. I do a quick scan of the room. Doesn’t look like Sarah forgot anything… Yet still, when I swing the door wide, I’m expecting to see her standing there. But I’m dead wrong. It’s not Sarah at all. It’s not even nosey Mrs. Doherty.

  It’s… It’s a cowboy. A hot cowboy.

  Chapter 5

  Dorran

  “Are you…a stripper?” the female asks. But I can hardly process her words. She is utterly lovely, with long blonde hair that falls in waves and skin so golden it looks kissed by the sun. And her eyes…they are as blue as the sky. Her attire is nothing like the females in the entertainment vids. She’s got no long and flowing skirts, no cinched waist, no low-cut bodice. She’s barefoot and wearing miniature shorts made of the same denim material as my own pants. And her top half is covered in a soft-looking, short-sleeved tee with the words nobody likes a shady beach scrawled across it, paired with a picture of a wave. The female stares at me expectantly.