Page 40 of Oblivious Roommate

“Well, you turned me into a waffle-holic. Who knows what other talents you’re hiding,” he says as we pull into an exit and head toward a town I’ve never heard of. Businesses are sprinkled on both sides of the road, and I look around, certain there’s something else he’s planned. Because the ‘scenic route’ definitely shouldn’t involve the skeletal remains of a Blockbuster Video.

“Oh shit,” Cass mutters.

“What? Are you okay?” I give him a worried glance. He’s been bursting with good humor all day, and he’s a picture of health.

Cass gives a little groan and glances my way. “The car’s acting up,” he says even though the vehicle drives as smoothly as an old Jeep can. “We might need to stop at Walmart.”

I spot the tiniest hint of smile on his lips and realize what this is about. We are about to recreate my seventeenth birthday evening! “Oh no!” I say dramatically. “But what about our plans to go bowling?

He shrugs, already heading to the big-box store ahead. “Might need to do that next time. Sorry, Mattie.”

I cross my arms in pretend upset. “My phone’s out of juice too, so I can’t call my parents to pick us up.” I wink at him as he parks close to the entrance. It’s late, so there aren’t that many vehicles around, and I’m sure we’re gonna use it to our advantage once we get snacks and progress to the cart-racing phase of this evening.

I follow him through the door, and we jog past the greeter.

“To the cereal aisle,” I yell as if I’m seventeen again, but Cass spins around to grab my wrist and leans in, staring into my eyes as if we are about to make a life-changing decision.

“No. You are a man now. It’s the booze aisle or bust.”

My eyes widen. It’s true, I can now buy alcohol. “Is there a limit?” I ask.

“No limits tonight, Mattie,” says Cass as his handsome mouth widens in a smile. It makes my insides melt, and when he storms past aisles filled with seasonal merchandise, I cannot stop looking at him.

But instead of heading straight to the liquor section, we end up following a store security guard around, just because. I feel drunk already as we sneak behind him to the tune of Mission Impossible’s main musical theme provided by Cassian’s mouth. He’s not the best of singers, but it does the job.

By the time we do arrive at the alcohol aisle, it’s the security guard who’s following us. I lean in to whisper into Cass’s ear. “We’ve got every right to be here.”

He sniggers. “Yeah, he can check your ID if he wants to. Choose many tiny bottles, so we can sample and rate them.”

The guard eyes us like a hawk as we fill our hands with every mini bottle that catches my eye, and then we’re rushing through the empty store, straight for the cash registers. A part of me is still nervous when I show my ID, as if it was fake, but the bored cashier notices the date and wishes me a happy birthday.

Once outside, we stuff some of the booze into our pockets, but when it doesn’t all fit, Cass even puts a few of the minis at the front of his shirt, before tying it as if it were a sac. This exposes his midriff, and I end up staring so intensely, I almost miss the empty shopping cart he sends my way.

“Oooh! So this is happening?” I ask, recalling the shopping cart race from years ago. “Now I’m glad we haven’t started drinking yet!”

Cass grabs another cart, but when he gets a bit wobbly, my mind is flooded with visions of him falling over and all the glass tied in his T-shirt breaking and cutting into his stomach and chest.

I grab his arms, filled with dread. “Wait. I… Is this safe? With all the glass?” I point to his T-shirt.

With one leg already in the cart, he raises his eyebrows, but then his expression softens. He leans in and pats my cheek. “Aww… Mattie, you care!”

I push his hand away with a snort. “Of course I care! It would be a stupid way to die. Impaled by gin.”

Cass gets his foot back to the asphalt. “Okay, let’s skip the cart race. But let it be known… only because you chickened out!” He makes a clucking sound.

I laugh and shove him again. “I don’t care. I’m a responsible adult now!”

Cass shakes his head and pats my back. “Sure, let’s see how responsible you are after you sample these.” He points to the bottles and leads us toward the car.

On my seventeenth birthday, we ended up chatting and sampling all kinds of cereals under a bush between the store where we got them and a chapel, but since Cass’s car miraculously recovered, he drives us to the woods nearby.

The parking lot is empty, and when we open the doors to rest on the flat back seats, I notice the only thing I can hear is the wind. We’re on our own, with several bottles of liquor between us, and when I see Cass pulling out pillows and sleeping bags, I know we’re gonna spend the night here.

It’s perfect.

“Are those because you don’t wanna miss out on rating the drinks?” I ask, shaking the tiny bottle of Jägermeister. Levi might think I’m a dumbass, but I’d never let Cass drive after drinking.

“What amazing powers of deduction you have, dear Watson,” Cass says, chuckling when I jab him in the ribs.