Yeah, my dry spell turned into a fucking desert where my dick has gone to die.
But if the other option is the room I can’t fill, I’ll take this any day. After firing off a few more leads to people I heard might need a sublet, I let myself relax, shower, and have a beer. It’s my first night going out in a really long time, and it’s surprising to find I’m actually looking forward to it.
After picking out a pair of black jeans and one of my favorite soft T-shirts in a subdued olive color, I find my slip-on leather sneakers and gel my hair. I’m not a fashion expert by any means, but I like clothes and looking good. I like getting a fresh fade at the barber, especially the one I found near campus. I’m going to miss those guys when I leave town in May.
My phone rings just as I’m about to head out the door, and I see Dad’s name flash across the screen. Fucking great. He’s been bugging me about the double rent thing since I moved back into school roughly two weeks ago. I know I’m burdening them with paying for two places, and I absolutely don’t want to do that. It’s just, they should also be supportive that I cannot live with Bevan. They were devastated about our breakup, but that’s because they have no clue about the knockdown, drag out fights. I kept a lot of our issues a secret from them, because my family loves my ex. And after all she’s been through with her own family, she deserved some support, attention, and love from my very welcoming parents.
“Hey, Pops,” I greet him as I balance the phone to my ear, using my shoulder as I lock my door.
“Cally, how was your week?” Dad’s booming voice comes over some kind of music playing in the background.
I’m sure he and Mom are cooking their Friday night feast, as they like to call it. Now that they don’t have kids in the house, they drink a lot more wine and I’m assuming do a lot of things that I would rather eat glass than talk or think about.
“Pretty good. My new schedule this semester is freaking heavy, plus I have to gear up for student teaching in the spring. But I think I’ll be finding out my placement in the local elementary system soon. I’m going out with Gannon and Scott tonight.”
Dad makes a happy noise. “Haven’t heard those names in a while, that’s great. Tie one on for me.”
I roll my eyes. “No one says that anymore, Dad. Where is Mom?”
“Right next to me, chopping carrots. We’re making some French dish she found in her latest cookbook. I’m just ready to eat it.”
I hear Mom call my name in the back and then say something like she loves me. “Tell her I love her. But um, I’m kind of walking out the door.”
I’ve been idling in the hallway, and I need to press the elevator button if the rusty, old box is ever going to arrive on my floor in the next hour.
“I won’t take up much more of your time but needed to mention the living situation. You have to give up the ghost, bud. I know it won’t be the easiest, but we can’t pay for the double living arrangements. Your sister will be getting married soon, and we have to save for that. We were also hoping to take all of you on a vacation after you graduate. And come on, Cally, it isn’t unreasonable of us to ask you this. Most students don’t have double rooms and pay for both of them. If you can’t find a sublet, you’ll have to move back into the house.”
My heart drops because, of course, it’s not unreasonable. My parents are the best, and they would if they could, but he’s right. They have other things to save their money for, and it wasn’t in anticipation that I’d break up with my girlfriend and have all of this housing drama.
At the same time, I wish this situation were any different way but the way it is. I’ve been banging my head against a wall trying to find a roommate for my friends at the house, and I’m coming up empty. I feel the desperation crawling up my throat at all times and know that I probably only have a couple more days before I have to relent.
“I know, Dad, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying. I’ll figure something out.” I do feel bad for putting them in this position.
“Son, don’t be sorry. Sometimes facing what we’re afraid of actually does us better in the long run. Maybe you and Bevan could use the time as housemates to repair your relationship. Or at least gain a friendship. It might do you both good.”
He has no idea what he’s talking about, but I nod my head like he can see me.
“All right, go be a crazy college kid. Love ya, talk later.” Dad dismisses me.
“Love you, too,” I say and hung up.
It takes me about fifteen minutes to walk to the bar, opting to leave my car behind in case I drink too much. The Commons, or the downtown area at the bottom of the valley in our college town, is hopping. Talcott University sits on one of two hills overlooking Cayuga Lake, and nestled into that valley is a big strip of shops and restaurants situated on cobblestones.
During the day, The Commons is business central. It’s where you go to pick up clothes, coffee, or get a haircut. There’s a post office, several eateries, and even a smoke shop that sells hookahs. There is no way that shop owner doesn’t know that most of the kids on campus fill those hookahs with weed.
But at night, this place transforms. Strobe lights spill from the four bars slash nightclubs, music pumping and competing from across each side. Drunk kids swarm everywhere, either on the hunt for pizza or which bar is letting in under-agers with fake IDs on any given night. Shouting, cursing, people making out on benches. There is the occasional suspicious townie, and a cop or two ready to hand out a ticket. The Commons is where you go when you are finally old enough to be able to get drunk without crashing someone’s house party.
Tonight, we’re going more low-key. Laker’s is one of the bars that shows sports games, and patrons actually sit on the stools to talk low or just enjoy a casual night out. This isn’t the kind of place where girls will be teetering on stage in sky-high heels, or some loser dude is whipping his shirt off for body shots. I’m glad Gannon agreed to this place, because the other bars would have been too overwhelming for me tonight.
Too overwhelming, who am I? I used to thrive on this shit. But I guess people change.
I wave to a few people as I skirt around drunk students in my path, recognizing some guys from class or girls I’ve met through Scott over the years. Honestly, I’m in a pretty good mood despite the setbacks this week.
As soon as I enter Laker’s, though, I know I’m not getting the chill vibe I want. Country music blares from the speakers, and there are about a hundred more people than normal crammed into the bar that looks like it was transported here from the nineteen eighties. Space has been cleared for a dance floor, which I never thought this bar did, and there is a DJ yelling into a microphone by the bathrooms.
I audibly groan, though it’s swallowed by this place, and make my way to the bar.
“Dude, you made it!” Scott jumps off the stool he’s occupying to give me a hug.
“Didn’t wait for me to start, huh?” I notice he’s already wobbling.
“Here!” He shoves a shot in my hand, Gannon waves hello, and then they’re both counting to three.
I slam the whiskey back because I’m already fucking here, and it burns all the way down. At first, when the air changes, I think it’s because I just ingested poison. I’m a beer guy and haven’t developed a taste for any kind of liquor. So when my friends make me do this shit, I just try not to puke.