Page 46 of My Roommate from Hell
“Shut up!” he says. “Go on, tell me everything. What’s living with a demon like?”
I glance over at the table in the living room where Tyrell is playing a game. He notices me watching. I am really enjoying becoming friends with him, and I trust that he won’t post anything I don’t want him to. Still, I don’t want to lose the internship because I vented too much. Leeke’s offer only stands if I show how possible coexistence is, and as much as I like Tyrell, he’s kind of a direct threat to that.
“He’s great,” I say. “I couldn’t ask for a better roommate.”
“You’re obviously lying,” says Avery. “Thereistea. Come on, tell us. We’ll keep it a secret, I promise.”
I like Avery, but I do wish he were a little less perceptive. He reminds me a little of Ashley in that way.
Tyrell walks over. Even though it’s a party, he’s dressed like he was when we first met: in a button-down dress shirt tucked into jeans. If a stranger were tasked to find the reporter at this party, they’d surely guess it’s him. He’s also one of the few who, like me, isn’t drinking. He told me it’s because his first boyfriend had a problem with alcohol, and it’s turned him off even social drinking. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m asking Owen to tell us what Zarmenus is really like,” says Avery. “But he’s being coy.”
Tyrell sips his drink.
As much as I like these people, I can’t tell them the truth. Not with my deal in place.
“He’s great,” I say. “Seriously, no complaints here.”
I hate lying to them, but I don’t really have a choice.
About half an hour later, I’m pouring myself another drink in the kitchen when Tyrell walks in.
“A word,” he asks.
“Sure.”
We go outside and take a seat on a swinging deck chair.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Do I seem not okay?”
“Listen, I like you. And I can tell you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Things aren’t going well with Zarmenus, are they?”
His eyes are full of sympathy, and I can tell he already knows the answer.
“Please don’t post about this.”
“I won’t,” he says. “You have my word. But man, I’m worried about you. What’s going on?”
“I’m finding it hard to live with him. Like, really hard. But there’s so much pressure. It’s like, if I say anything about it, I’ll be confirming that we can’t coexist.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t ask for this. And I don’t know what to do.”
“Are you thinking of switching rooms?”
“Can I even do that?”
It would mean sacrificing the internship. But all night I’ve been thinking about how he’s going to do something tonight that wakes me up, or there will be some other horror that appears and threatens my life.
“You could, if you really had to,” he says. “Leeke will be upset, but you have to do what’s best for you.”
“I just don’t know how much longer I can pretend everything’s fine.”
He goes still, taking that in. “I think you should switch rooms.”
