Page 52 of My Roommate from Hell
“Zarmenus,” says Tyrell.
Red Velvet rolls her eyes, like it’s annoying he’s all anyone talksabout. “His thirst trap, you mean? By the way the gays are reacting you’d think they’d never seen a shirtless man before.”
The song changes, switching to a song by The Killers: “Run for Cover.”
“I love this song,” says Red. “We should dance.”
I also love this song, so I don’t mind when she grabs me by the arm and pulls me to the dance floor. The Killers are one of Dad’s favorite bands, and his love for them was passed down to me when we went and saw them live back when I was fourteen. The show was great, sure, but what I loved most was seeing Dad so excited, and how hyped he was to share his love of their music with me. The memory hits with a pang of sadness, because it feels like a relic of the before times, back when Dad wasn’t as unhappy as he has been for a while now. I can barely even recall the last time his primary emotion wasn’t stressed.
My group start dancing, forming a circle a little ways away from Zarmenus and his group.
Once the song is over, I’m fully into the music and don’t care about what the people around me think of my lack of dancing skills. I just relax and enjoy myself.
I get a sense that a lot of the people here are acting the same way, which might be because this is the last day of orientation week. As fun as it’s been, college proper starts next week. We’ll all have classes, and while I’m sure there will still be a bunch of events for us all to go to, it’s not like it’s going to be something every single night like this week.
Maybe people are treating tonight as a last hurrah. Or maybe that’s just me.
We end up dancing for a few hours, only stopping to get drinks. It’s pretty clear a lot of the other partygoers have smuggled in alcohol and are totally wasted. I don’t mind being sober. I’ve drunk enough this week already and it’s not like I need it to have a good time.
The party ends at eleven, and everyone files out of the Hub and onto the street outside. As fun as tonight has been, a solid four hoursof dancing has knocked all the energy out of me, and I’m so ready to go to sleep.
Tyrell clears his throat, then points at something behind me. I turn and see Zarmenus. He’s making out with a bearish guy. Their shirts are still off, the discarded clothes tucked into their waistbands.
People keep stopping to watch or film them. As long as he doesn’t make out in my room, I’m fine with whatever he wants to do. Seriously. He can make out all he wants. It’s a free country.
He opens his eyes, and catches me looking at him. A few times tonight, I caught him looking at me across the flashing lights of the dance floor, or he caught me. It felt a little like a game of chicken, where neither of us wanted to admit we’d been keeping tabs on the other. Sometimes it felt like the party had melted away, the bodies around him fading as the handsome, dark-haired guy with the ruby necklace pulled all focus.
He starts making his way over, bringing the guy with him. This guy is on the bigger side and has a beard. Zarmenus pulls him by the hand until they reach us. The sharp, chemical smell of alcohol follows them.
“Hey, roomie,” says Zarmenus, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Thom and I are going to use the room for a while, is that okay with you?”
I feel the entire world slow down. The annoyance within me sparks, then catches. I’m sure if I had abilities like Zarmenus does, I would turn into an eldritch horror and destroy the entire campus.
Not really.
But how can he ask this of me? I’m so tired, and it’s not the agreement we had. It’s the middle of the night. Where am I supposed to go? I could, hypothetically, go to the diner and kill time that way. But why should I have to? I’m exhausted and I’d probably fall asleep at the table.
“Sorry, but no,” I say. “I’m tired, and you’ve used our room a lot. Can’t you use his room?”
“My roommate’s not cool with it,” says Thom. “Z said you are.”
“Well, I’m not,” I say. “Not this late at night, how is that not obvious?”
“That’s kind of unfair,” says Zarmenus. “You said I could have the room to myself, I just needed to ask, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“But it’s nearly midnight!” I say. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“I don’t know, you could hang out with your friends?”
“Er, Owen,” says Tyrell, sliding between us. “Hi, Zarmenus. Okay, I know you two have your issues that you clearly need to work through, but you should know you’re being filmed right now.”
A bunch of people have taken their phones out and are now filming us. There has to be at least a few dozen phones pointed at us right now.
But I’m not done with this argument. It needs to be said.
“Let’s go back inside,” I say.
“Fine.” He turns to Thom. “Rain check?”
