I can’t wait to see how crazy this place gets tonight. Not only is this our first house meeting, but I’ve convinced my housemates to throw a party. Not that they needed much convincing, they said they basically held one at least once every weekend because so many of their underage friends couldn’t get into the bars. If they got turned away, they came here because it was close, and eventually, the party just kind of happened.
“Okay, rule number one: if there is a tissue box on the door, do not enter that room. Freaky things are happening in there.” Callum points at me.
“Really? That’s rule number one about respectfully living in this house?” Bevan rolls her eyes at her boyfriend, then picks up a slice of pepperoni and takes a big bite.
“Why a tissue box? Isn’t it a sock? Or a girl’s hair tie?” I question, taking a sip of my beer.
Amelie, who is sitting above us all on the couch while munching on a Caesar salad, laughs. “Well, we did that at first. But Scott is an almost-sleepwalker and kept being able to twist the handles with those things. We improvised and started using empty tissue boxes. He can’t get in, and everyone can be on their merry, orgasmic way.”
Scott nearly spits his beer out as he jokes, “Good one, Ams.”
She smiles and nods her head at her comedic timing.
“The most important rule in this house is: don’t eat anyone else’s shit. Label your own shit. If I catch you eating my food, I’ll end you.” Bevan slices her finger across her throat.
I hold my hands up in surrender because this girl fucking scares me. “No complaints from me about either of those rules. I’ll have my own mini-fridge upstairs, so you won’t have to worry about me taking space. On the other front, I’ll remember to grab an empty tissue box.”
My eyes flit over to Taya as I say that, and she’s looking anywhere but at me. I wonder how many times I’ll catch a tissue box on her door. The thought both intrigues me and makes me a little jealous. The girl is gorgeous, and I wonder at the same time if I could be the guy to put a tissue box on her doorknob.
I’m pretty sure I’ve been staring at her for too long because she’s chewing her lip, and Amelie is looking at me curiously. I turn back to the group and hide my distracted mind by scarfing down my pizza.
“Always park behind the person you know will be leaving the house last the next day. You’ll get to know the shuffle of cars pretty quick. But since we have three spots, double stacked, it gets annoying if you’re blocked in and have to leave first.”
This rule comes from Scott, who seems chill. I didn’t realize we already knew each other from playing intramural basketball, and he’s a baller on the court.
“Got it. And if I do, just yell at me, and I’ll move my car.” I look around the circle.
“Besides that, I think we’re golden. I mean, normal human rules apply. Do your laundry, don’t be stanky, if you want to smoke, go outside …” Callum looks off like he’s trying to come up with other things that are common decency.
“Don’t worry. You guys will barely notice I’m around,” I assure them.
“Says the prom king.” Bevan sneers at me, then smiles sweetly.
I choke on my beer. “Touché. But if it makes a difference, I would have given away that crown so fast, it wasn’t even funny.”
These people, who were two years younger than I was in high school, probably think I relished that Mr. Popular title. They’d be surprised if they knew just how wrong they were.
The way I talk about my prom crown has Taya cocking her head to the side to examine me. I don’t love that she’s trying to peel back the layers, to study my vulnerabilities, but I do love that she’s looking at me.
I’ve never loved eyes on me because it’s been that way my entire life—expectations, attention, responsibility. I wish it would go away, and Talcott has given me that reprieve somewhat, but now I’m right back in the lion’s den.
But when she looks at me … I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like she wants any of those things. I don’t feel on edge or like she’s about to ask me about the Van Hewitt family tree. It’s strange for someone who I’ve only spent a little bit of time with to put me at such ease.
My bullshit radar, my judgment meter, is pretty spot on. It has to be when I’ve been used so many times in my life.
So it’s curious that no alarms are going off when I think about this girl. Taya North is about to become a very interesting roommate.
I just wonder if she has any rules of her own she’ll demand I follow.
5
Austin
Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s “WAP” booms through the house, and bodies grind together everywhere.
My head bobs in time to the raunchy, catchy song, and I can just imagine taking a girl up to the third floor and thrusting into her in time to the beat.
Yeah, I’m fucking horny. It’s been a month since I’ve gotten laid, since I had all of my roommate turmoil from day one of the semester. Before that, I was home, and it’s easier to keep my dick in my pants than have word getting around town about who I’m sleeping with.
But tonight? I’m a half-cocked shotgun ready to unleash. The point of this party isn’t to find a fuck buddy, but it’ll be the best side effect.
I don’t mean to sound so callous, but sometimes a guy just needs sex, right? A lot of the girls I’ve encountered in my three and a half years at college want the same exact thing. No strings, a space to experiment, and a good time that leads to mutual pleasure. I’m all for that, especially if it means there are no expectations that I’ll be a boyfriend to anyone. Not only do I not have time for a relationship with all that I want to accomplish, but my love life is just one more thing my family could potentially control. No thanks.
“Vanny!”
I hear my nickname bellowed across the room and turn to see my best friend at Talcott, Brian, lumber over to me. Brian is a linebacker on the football team and weighs about double my body weight. He’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet and an engineering whiz. Talcott’s football team is division three, so he’s really only playing for fun and some scholarship money. When he graduates, he’ll be working at some top-tier firm in New York City, or at least that’s his plan.
Secretly, I wish I could go too. We’d be roommates, and I’ve told him once or twice I’d consider it. Working and living in the Big Apple? Among some of the most famous radio stations in the country? Talk about my fucking dream.
I push it out of my head as he slaps me on the back. “Glad you could make it. Are Gio and Evan here?”
My other two closest friends at Talcott must be around here somewhere. They would have told me they weren’t coming. Gio and I are both broadcast radio majors, while Evan met us at an intramural flag football game sophomore year and the three of us clicked. Brian and I were roommates freshman year by coincidence and the housing process, and the four of us just made a unit. We watch out for each other here and have had some fun-ass times. I’m going to miss them after graduation.
Brian nods. “They’re running the pong table in the basement. Sick new house, by the way. Totally worth going through all that shit. Except you always should have lived with us.”