Page 92 of My Roommate from Hell
“And did she like you?”
“I think so,” I say. “I got a little nervous and tongue-tied a few times.”
“That’s normal, she won’t judge you for it. I mean, she works for Google, for crying out loud. Even I know how big of a deal that is.”
“Yeah. She did say she was looking forward to seeing Leeke’s recommendation at the end of the semester, so fingers crossed.”
“That’s brilliant!”
He gets out of bed and rushes up to me, then grabs me in a tight hug.
“What is this for?”
“Are you joking?” he says, squeezing me tighter. “I’m so proud of you.”
The eyeball watching us blinks, making a wet sound.
“It doesn’t bother you at all?” I ask. “The internship, I mean.”
He lets me go. “No, why would it?”
I shrug. I’m not sure why it would, we’ve been clear from the start about why we’re spending so much time together. He’s trying to appease his parents, I’m trying to get the internship.
“You don’t feel like I’m using you, do you?” I ask.
“What! No, man. You saved my life with my parents. All I feel is grateful.”
“By the way,” I say, then point at the eyeball. “What’s that?”
“I actually don’t know,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
The eye’s pupil darts between us.
“I’ve been trying to get rid of it,” he says. “Nothing has worked so far. I know I said I’d be better about this sort of thing, but this thing is stubborn.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I know it’s not your fault. Listen, I’ll give you a pass on the eldritch horrors as long as you keep being a good roommate.”
I sit at my desk. I can feel the eye watching me, but if Zarmenus isn’t worried, I don’t think I should be, either. I trust that he would never let anything hurt me.
I try to focus on my computer science assessment, but find it hard to concentrate. I loadPoint Press,and see Tyrell’s newest storyis up. It’s about Zarmenus doing charity work at a local school, reading picture books to kids. I haven’t checkedPoint Pressin a while, and it seems Zarmenus has been doing a lot of charity, from working at a soup kitchen to clearing trash out of a nearby river. Each of the stories is written by Tyrell. I find it odd that neither of them has mentioned it, seeing as I get food with Tyrell every few days and we always message about the TV shows we’re watching. I also saw him at last week’s Gaymers meeting, and he didn’t say a word about it.
I spin in my chair to face Zarmenus. He’s lying on his bed, throwing a small basketball up and down.
“Yes?” he asks.
“I didn’t know you were doing charity stuff.”
He catches the ball. “Yeah, it was Leeke’s idea.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“I guess I didn’t want you to think of me as Leeke’s dancing demon. Tyrell feels the same—he’s pretty torn up about it.”
I closePoint Press,because it doesn’t offer me the respite I was hoping for.
“By the way, what are you doing tonight?” I ask.
“Adam’s having another party,” he says. “His father is away on business again.”
