Page 5 of Tapped By My Roommate
“Yeah, man, go ahead and sign up. When do you need it?”
“Soon. Uh, end of next week, I think.”
Jesus. Okay. Well, maybe I could sell a kidney or something.
“No problem,” I said with false confidence. “Text me this weekend, and we’ll figure it all out. We’ll go shopping for those cleats, and I’ll get you the money for the fees.”
“Thanks, man. I knew you’d come through for me,” he said. “Well, not really, but I was hoping.”
“I always will, bro.”
After we hung up, I dropped my head onto the steering wheel. Damn. I’d promised him I’d come through, but how the hell was I going to do that with rent due on Tuesday? My mind whirled through the options. Even if I could inspire more tips than usual, it wouldn’t be enough, not when I already relied on a good portion of tips to pay my bills.
I’d have to find another way. Failing Cary was not an option.
* * *
ETHAN
I walked into the rehab center of the Oasis Animal Rescue—located midway between Hayworth and Riverton, about a thirty-minute drive from campus—and inhaled the humid musky scent.
Despite the air filters and frequent cleaning, that smell couldn’t entirely be prevented in a space that held upwards of twenty wild animals. A smile spread on my face. I knew it was weird to like an odor most people thought of as bad, but Ilovedworking with animals, and the scent had so many positive associations for me. Dozens of memories of visiting the reptile house at the local zoo, pressing close to the glass to watch the snakes and lizards in awe. Memories of volunteering there as a teenager and getting to prep food for those same reptiles. Memories of walking in here for the first time—and finally,finallygetting to handle them directly, to feed and care for them.
And clean their cages. Less exciting, but no less important.
“Hey, Snippy,” I said, peeking in on our box turtle. She was about a foot in length with a gorgeous shell, but her owners had given her an imbalanced diet that had resulted in overgrowth of her beak. Too much protein and not enough abrasive foods to wear it down. Still, she’d gotten off better than Sweet Pea, a little mud turtle whose shell had never fully developed due to an imbalanced diet and too little sunlight, meaning she couldn’t tuck in her head and hide. As a result, she spent a lot of time under a log in the enclosure, poor girl.
I continued along, taking an inventory of each animal—being in Nebraska, there were more squirrel and opossum rescues than reptiles or amphibians. Working with them all was good experience for the wildlife biology degree I was working toward, but my heart was in herpetology. One day, I wanted to open a reptile rescue of my own.
“Hey, Ethan, you need to see this,” my supervisor, Carla, called.
“Got something new in?” I asked as I headed toward the intake area.
A good portion of the room was reserved for the animals—not small cages, but sizeable enclosures mimicking habitats that fit the animals’ needs. Carla stood in a small sectioned-off area set up like a veterinary exam room with a stainless-steel table and a sink.
She turned, and in her arms was a bearded dragon. “Meet Bea.”
I rushed over, grinning like a loon. “Aw, look at her. So sweet.”
To my relief, Bea looked to be in good health. That wasn’t always the case.
“Someone found her in their front yard. No idea how she got there. Obviously, she’s not native to Nebraska.” She chuckled.
“Think she escaped her cage?” I asked, my mind immediately going to another cage in another building. One with a spiteful ex-girlfriend.
I wouldn’t have chosen to own a green iguana if Tess hadn’t bought Zilla as a gift for me. They weren’t easy pets. They could live anywhere from twelve to twenty years in captivity. And they got large. Zilla could grow to six feet in length. Once full-sized, she’d need space to roam and climb, requiring a much larger enclosure than she had now.
Which is what had me worried. Eventually, Zilla would have needs Tess might not be willing to meet.
“Bea might have escaped,” Carla mused. “That’s a nice thought.” Her expression darkened. “She might also have been intentionally set loose if her owner didn’t want the responsibility of caring for her anymore.”
It seemed heartless to me, but I knew it was a possibility.
Dragging a finger over Bea’s bumpy scales, I smiled. “At least Bea is in good hands now.”
Carla nodded. “Yes, she’s got you.”
I flushed with pleasure. I hadn’t been seeking praise, but it was nice to know Carla trusted me.
