Page 14 of Run, Run, Roommates
Marco rubs his face, thinking. “He did say he didn’t expect me to do much. To paraphrase, I think he said, ‘Show up, don’t embarrass me.’”
“So if he expected so little of you, then it would make sense that he would pledge that large of an amount. You do a couple of tasks, bada bing, bada boom, it’s whatever.” I duck down to look in Marco’s eyes. “But . . . what if we won the contest? What if we got as close as we possibly could to a hundred points? It’s for charity. We could win them a lot of money. And you know, it’s the season of giving.” I lilt my voice up in a tease, knowing it’ll rile him.
Marco snorts. “The holidays are for commercialism and religious righteousness. Most charitable giving is token, and a mere pittance. Just look at William.”
But he looks at the spreadsheet again. Any money William has pledged is just a fraction of his net worth. The charities deserve it, and even if it is small change to William, at least it’s something.
“All right,” Marco agrees. “Two thousand dollars it is.”
As if punctuating the statement, the door to our apartment opens.
7
Marco
Bea, clearly in a rush, kicks her shoes off, and I close my laptop.
Brin and I watch in amusement while a frazzled Bea packs for her weeklong trip to upstate New York. She gets even more frazzled when some guy named Charlie shows up at our door claiming she’s giving him a ride.
But it’s hard to keep focused, especially when Brin’s still pressed up against me, watching our roommate’s drama with wide eyes that ping-pong between the two of them.
When the door slams closed behind Bea and Charlie, Brin jumps up. “I’ve got to get ready for work. I guess you’ll have to manage the present wrapping by yourself tonight.”
“No problem,” I say, and reopen my laptop. Brin walks into our room, leaving the door open a crack.
I pull the Discord server up again. “Oh hey,” I call over my shoulder. “The countdown is over.”
There is no longer a single channel, but multiple channels.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brin calls. I hear drawers opening and closing, the sound of clothes ruffling and then an “ahhhh!”
“Brin, you okay?”
“Don’t come in! I’m putting pants on,” she warns. I face my laptop again and rub my forehead. She’s not wearing pants. Logically, I already knew that, but to hear her say it puts a visual in my head.
Brin finally appears in the doorway. She’s in her black pants and a sports bra, exposing her midriff to me. I rarely ever see her in this state of undress, and it’s like I’m living in Victorian times and graced with seeing her ankles.
I know Brin is shy with her body, and I think she’s just goddamn clueless about how sexy she is.
“So are there more tasks?” Brin perches on the couch, and I avoid looking at the softness of her stomach.
I click around. There’s an FAQ channel—a quick scan reveals nothing we don’t already know from the session today—an announcement channel, a general chat for people to ask questions, and then a team channel. The announcement channel already has a red number next to it, indicating there’s an important new message.
I click it open. The first announcement was right at five, which included the list of open challenges that could be completed anytime. I copy and paste those over to my spreadsheet. There’s a reminder to wrap presents and turn them in before sending a photo in as proof. Then there’s the newest announcement, which Brin leans in to read over my shoulder:
@everyone: Welcome and let the games begin! Make sure you have notifications turned on for this Discord server, as this is the only way you’ll hear about burst challenges. Good luck and we can’t wait to see your pictures!
Brin claps her hands in excitement. “Go back to the list.”
I do and angle the screen to face her. The activities are so full of holiday spirit, it makes my jaw ache. There’s not just Christmas tasks, but seasonal and multicultural tasks too. Each one has a number on it indicating how many points we’ll get when we complete the task.
“I can’t believe I have to work,” Brin moans. “I want to do these things now.” She slumps against me, too distracted by the excitement of the scavenger hunt to be self-conscious. Her head is on my shoulder, and I get a whiff of her hair. It makes me think of the shower I heard, and I’m instantly longing for her to stay home with me tonight.
And do these holiday-themed tasks.
What is wrong with me?
Brin sits up and sighs. “Okay, those holiday-week tips are calling my name.” She stands, but then pauses, looking down at me and worrying her lip. “If you wanted, I could see about someone picking up my shifts this week.”
