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Talk about a slap in the face.It's not that I don't love fucking you Melanie, it's just that I would rather fuck someone else who can also give me more than that. A wife. Maybe pop out a couple kids and buy a house in the suburbs with a nice fence and a garage I can teach my future son how to fix cars in.
Who am I kidding, Andrew knows a lot about how to put people back together but I bet he doesn't know shit about automotive repair.
It's not like I haven't been through this before. This lifestyle is a ticking time bomb just waiting for option one or option two to blow shit up, but I thought Andrew and I had more time.
"No, it's fine. I totally understand. I'm happy for you." I'm great at lying, I even smile when I say it to really solidify that I am totally cool with this.
I will go home to BOB and he will just have to do. Maybe some fresh batteries will do the trick and take my mind off the lack of actual dick I am getting.
"We can still be friends." Eww, gross. No thank you. Rule number three: you can't be friends with someone of the opposite sex. It goes against the laws of humanity. You either want to fuck them or already have. The only exception to this rule is if you meet when you're both sleeping with someone else so you don't feel that sexual pull, like Darren and I. Otherwise, men and women are meant to coexist for one reason: to diddle each other's sexual organs and procreate.
My mind is a mess and it's starting to drift into nonsense. Andrew leaves the on-call room first, leaving me there with my stupid brain and my unsatisfied vagina. This is the worst Thanksgiving ever. The only thing that could make it better is a crazy case coming into the emergency room. That's the only thing left holding me together.
Days since my last orgasm: 12
We are all in a food coma, waiting for the football game to end. Well, Dad is engaged in whatever teams are playing and my brothers are cheering along with him. Delaney and I, however, are sitting together at the kitchen island while Mom cleans up the mess from the meal. She is still riding the high of us all being here and didn't let us help with the clean up, insisting that we all soak up the time together.
"I feel awful leaving her in the middle of our lease but Colton and I have already lost so much time that I can't imagine being without him any longer." Delaney is venting about her roommate situation. We were friends back in high school and when Delaney came back into Colton's life, I happily welcomed her back as a friend as well. The difference in our age seems minimal now that we are older, almost like we are on a level playing field.
"If she's not a bad roommate, I'm sure she will find someone soon." I attempt to ease her mind, but I can tell by the furrow still plaguing her forehead that it's not working.
"She's great ... maybe a little particular about things, but it's not that bad. She works a ton and is hardly ever home. I just worry that she will never pick someone, not so much that people won't be interested. The price is great for being in the city, I swear she must have haggled with the landlord when she first got the place because it's so cheap." Delaney continues and my mind starts turning.
"My lease is up at the end of the month and I could use a place in the city, closer to work. Maybe I could help? Move in until she finds someone else or something?" I volunteer, my need to fix problems that don't involve me weighing heavy. And though it would be nice to not have to get up so early to make it into work on time, my intentions aren't all pure. It would be nice to be closer to Galactic so that I can stumble home instead of needing to stay sober enough to drive myself back across town. They won't serve me there since I am only nineteen, but at least I could pregame at home and then walk over instead of pounding nips in the parking lot. Not to mention the money I would save on rent and gas would allow me to better afford the rest of my lifestyle.
"Would you really do that?" Delaney asks, as if it's any sort of real question. She is family, she has always been. And nothing is more important than family. If moving into her old place will help eliminate some of the stress for her, I will do it.
"How bad could it be? Living with a chick will be a nice change of pace from the bachelor life I have been living. Does she clean? Because that's something I didn't realize would be such a big part of living on my own and I am seriously lacking in that skill."
Delaney lets out a deep laugh, probably thinking I am kidding but this is not a joke. I hate cleaning and I am the literal worst at it.
"Is that a no?"
"She cleans, Pika, probably more than you had hoped. I will reach out to her and ask how she feels about a guy roommate."
"Is she not home with her family for Thanksgiving?"
"Oh, no. She struggles with boundaries and taking time off ... but don't tell her I said that. Then again, pretty sure my brother is also working tonight, so that says a lot about him too."
"If she never stops working, at least we know the bills are always paid." I play back, the clank of Mom closing the dishwasher behind us.
After I got home on Thanksgiving, my phone chimed with a message from Delaney letting me know that her roommate was willing to let me move in as long as I agree to her list of rules. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting something quite so ... comprehensive. But now while I sit here trying to take in everything it demands of me, I feel like I might have gotten myself in too deep with this arrangement. Stupidly, I told my superintendent that I would be leaving this week since it is the end of the month, so it's either move into Delaney's old place or move back home. Now that I have had a taste of the freedom living on my own offers, there's no way in hell I will be moving back in with my parents.
Three cardboard boxes are stacked in the corner of my studio apartment, the bed just a mattress on the floor. It took me all of twelve minutes to pack all of my shit, and seeing the small pile of boxes I am seeing how little I actually own. The only exception being the hamper filled with laundry that needs washing, but Delaney said there is laundry in the apartment so I am saving my quarters.
All that's left is agreeing to the terms and conditions that my new roommate has laid out in the six page document on my lap. It's typed and printed on paper that feels like a step above whatever the printer at the library uses, bordering on some kind of card stock maybe.
This agreement by and between Melanie Harper and Ashton Reeve shall govern the living situation for as long as both parties occupy the apartment located at 127 Kingston Ave, Apartment J. The terms of this agreement, at their core, boil down to one main rule: keep it clean, do your dishes, keep it quiet, and don't hog the bathroom. Further explanation and expanded conditions can be found in the following points:
1. Bill amounts shall be discussed at a monthly House Meeting, in which all shared bills (rent, electricity, heat, hot water and internet) shall be discussed and divided accordingly. Should either party decide to not attend this meeting, the bills will be split as the attending party sees fit.
I feel like these meetings are going to involve some kind of spreadsheet where she has timed my showers to prove that I owe more for hot water or something. Next thing I know, she might be measuring how much of the apartment my stuff takes up so that she can split the rent in some weird ass way.
2. To keep heating costs manageable, the thermostat shall remain at a maximum of sixty-two degrees at all times.
Sixty-two degrees! Fucking seriously? I will have to wear pants all year long, and probably a long sleeve shirt. I can tell I will definitely be taking more scalding hot showers to keep my body from becoming an icicle.
3. Each tenant is responsible for providing their own groceries. If you didn't buy it, you shouldn't be eating it without express permission from the purchaser. Exceptions include condiments that are already in the fridge or have been communicated to be fair use for all tenants. Additionally, any communal items that are used completely shall be replenished by whomever used it last within the week. This also applies to paper goods that are shared, including but not limited to paper towels, cleaning supplies, and toilet paper.
