elaborate?”
I didn’t know why, but I did. Want to elaborate, that is.
“ How much time do you have?” I asked.
He settled back on my bed, his back against the wall, his feet hanging over the side. “As much time as you need,” he said, grinning.
I sat on the chair at my desk and propped my feet next to my computer. And I told him. About my parents moving. About living with Dani for six hours. About the rat and the snake and the impromptu nap at Perkins.
“ Wow,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “You’ve had quite a week.”
“ You think?”
He nodded emphatically. “Yes. I hope things improve from here on out.”
“ Yeah. Me, too.”
Sitting there in my room, chatting with Dylan, I was pretty sure things would. I’d apologize to Dani on Monday. And I’d talk to Carl, too, see about going full time at the bookstore. I was in good shape with my final papers for school. Things were coming together. Finally.
The only missing link was Ben. Because, in the whole chain of events over the last few days, I wasn’t sure where he fit in. Sure, he’d been a jerk when I’d asked to move in with him. And yes, he was self-centered and a little egotistical. But he’d shown up to help me. And he’d been upset when he found out I’d be living with Dylan. I didn’t know what to make of it.
Clearly, Dylan didn’t, either. “So, what’s going on with you and Ben?”
I shifted in the chair. “What do you mean?”
“ I don’t know,” he said. “I thought you guys broke up or something. I felt like I’d done something wrong when you guys walked in.”
“ You didn’t. And we did break up.”
He nodded his head, thinking. “He just seemed a little weirded out about you living here.”
“ Yeah, I know. I have no clue why.” I ran my fingers through my hair and rubbed at my eyes.
Dylan noticed. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry. I’ve been sitting here yakking at you and you’re exhausted. I’ll go.” He stood up.
“ No, no,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I was the one doing all the talking.”
“ Only because I made you.”
“ I was a willing participant.”
He smiled. “Whatever. Go to sleep.”
I yawned again. I was more tired than I realized. “OK. I will.”
“ OK. Goodnight, roomie.” He left my room and closed the door.
I made a beeline for the bed, not even bothering to change my clothes or head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was exhausted.
I pulled the sheets and comforter up to my neck and shifted on to my side. The last thing I remembered was the smell of sandalwood.
Dylan.
ELEVEN
I spent the weekend with my new roommates. I’d never participated in communal living. Never had the experience of dorm living or shared apartments. It was a new experience.
And I loved it.
The unit of three welcomed me and enveloped me into their fold, almost as if I’d always been there. Nightly dinners together were common, I found out Saturday morning. There was a whiteboard calendar on the wall in the kitchen. If you knew you were going to be around for dinner, you put your initials on the date. Meg was the designated chef. By design.
“ I love to cook,” she said over homemade tamales Saturday night.
The four of us sat around the table, platters of steaming tamales in the center. There were three kinds: a spicy chicken, a beef brisket and a spinach and feta. I had one of each.
“ We usually chip in for groceries,” Andy said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He’d just polished off his fourth tamale. “A few bucks here and there.”
I nodded. “OK.” I could do that, especially if it meant I was guaranteed meals like the one I was eating. My culinary talents were limited to opening cans of soup and heating frozen dinners.
“ And Dylan bakes,” Meg said, smirking. Andy laughed and put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Yeah, they were definitely a couple.
“ Shut up,” Dylan told her, his mouth full of tamale.
“ It’s just not edible,”
I didn’t know why, but I did. Want to elaborate, that is.
“ How much time do you have?” I asked.
He settled back on my bed, his back against the wall, his feet hanging over the side. “As much time as you need,” he said, grinning.
I sat on the chair at my desk and propped my feet next to my computer. And I told him. About my parents moving. About living with Dani for six hours. About the rat and the snake and the impromptu nap at Perkins.
“ Wow,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “You’ve had quite a week.”
“ You think?”
He nodded emphatically. “Yes. I hope things improve from here on out.”
“ Yeah. Me, too.”
Sitting there in my room, chatting with Dylan, I was pretty sure things would. I’d apologize to Dani on Monday. And I’d talk to Carl, too, see about going full time at the bookstore. I was in good shape with my final papers for school. Things were coming together. Finally.
The only missing link was Ben. Because, in the whole chain of events over the last few days, I wasn’t sure where he fit in. Sure, he’d been a jerk when I’d asked to move in with him. And yes, he was self-centered and a little egotistical. But he’d shown up to help me. And he’d been upset when he found out I’d be living with Dylan. I didn’t know what to make of it.
Clearly, Dylan didn’t, either. “So, what’s going on with you and Ben?”
I shifted in the chair. “What do you mean?”
“ I don’t know,” he said. “I thought you guys broke up or something. I felt like I’d done something wrong when you guys walked in.”
“ You didn’t. And we did break up.”
He nodded his head, thinking. “He just seemed a little weirded out about you living here.”
“ Yeah, I know. I have no clue why.” I ran my fingers through my hair and rubbed at my eyes.
Dylan noticed. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry. I’ve been sitting here yakking at you and you’re exhausted. I’ll go.” He stood up.
“ No, no,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I was the one doing all the talking.”
“ Only because I made you.”
“ I was a willing participant.”
He smiled. “Whatever. Go to sleep.”
I yawned again. I was more tired than I realized. “OK. I will.”
“ OK. Goodnight, roomie.” He left my room and closed the door.
I made a beeline for the bed, not even bothering to change my clothes or head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was exhausted.
I pulled the sheets and comforter up to my neck and shifted on to my side. The last thing I remembered was the smell of sandalwood.
Dylan.
ELEVEN
I spent the weekend with my new roommates. I’d never participated in communal living. Never had the experience of dorm living or shared apartments. It was a new experience.
And I loved it.
The unit of three welcomed me and enveloped me into their fold, almost as if I’d always been there. Nightly dinners together were common, I found out Saturday morning. There was a whiteboard calendar on the wall in the kitchen. If you knew you were going to be around for dinner, you put your initials on the date. Meg was the designated chef. By design.
“ I love to cook,” she said over homemade tamales Saturday night.
The four of us sat around the table, platters of steaming tamales in the center. There were three kinds: a spicy chicken, a beef brisket and a spinach and feta. I had one of each.
“ We usually chip in for groceries,” Andy said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He’d just polished off his fourth tamale. “A few bucks here and there.”
I nodded. “OK.” I could do that, especially if it meant I was guaranteed meals like the one I was eating. My culinary talents were limited to opening cans of soup and heating frozen dinners.
“ And Dylan bakes,” Meg said, smirking. Andy laughed and put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Yeah, they were definitely a couple.
“ Shut up,” Dylan told her, his mouth full of tamale.
“ It’s just not edible,”
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