Page 80 of My Roommate from Hell
“Why don’tyouleave,” I say, getting to my feet and stepping between the two.
I don’t know where this bravery is coming from, but I think it’s because of how downcast Zarmenus looks. When I was bullied in elementary school, I remember wishing that someone, anyone, would say something to stop it. A lot of the time people never did, fearing that it would make them a target instead. I don’t want Zarmenus to feel how I did for even a second.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“I’m his boyfriend,” I say. “I bet you’ve got an issue with that, too?”
“Impossible. He’s a demon. He’sevil.”
Zarmenus might’ve been a bad roommate, but he’s not a bad person. He’s not evil.
“He’s not the evil one here,” I say. “Trust me, I live with him. If he were evil, I’d know. So why don’t you just go back to your sad life and leave us alone?”
A guy in the lane across from us is filming us.
“Yeah!” calls one of the staff members. I turn around and see that the entire alley has stopped to watch.
“He’s right,” calls a man in his forties who recently arrived with his family. “He’s welcome here.”
“Don’t you see,” says the man, his voice rising to something close to a shout. “He’s an omen! These are the end times! You need to wake up!”
I try to sympathize. I can tell he really believes what he’s saying,and it’s rooted in both fear and concern for us. It doesn’t stop him from being wrong. Zarmenus may be a demon, but he’s not biblical. There’s a difference.
The two staff members approach us, their faces solemn. The waves of heat radiating off Zarmenus have faded to the point that they’re barely noticeable, and he keeps clenching and unclenching his left fist.
I don’t know what’s different this time. While he brushed off the attack by the crossbow-wielding demon hunter with a smile, now his gaze is fixed onto the ground and his jaw is clenched so tight I can see a muscle twitching.
“We’ll give you one chance,” says one of the staff members, putting on an authoritative voice. “Go back to your lane, or you can leave.”
Wait, he’s not talking to Zarmenus. He’s talking to the guy who interrupted us.
“I’ve been coming here for years,” he says. “I’m one of your most loyal customers. Are you really going to pick thatthingover me?”
“Only if you make us,” says the worker. “You’re welcome to go back to your lane. We welcome all here.”
The man huffs, and spins around. He crosses the alley to collect his things. As he goes to leave, a few people start a slow clap. After he leaves, the alley mostly goes back to normal. I get a sense that a lot of people are still curious about what just occurred, but they’re trying their hardest to give us space and to pretend that nothing happened.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” says Zarmenus, his voice quiet. He sounds hollow, distant. “It’s your turn.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
As I step out of the rideshare car, the heavens open.
Still, I stop to hold the door open for Zarmenus. The rain pelts me, the droplets fat and heavy. In the distance, there’s a flash of lightning, then a booming thunderclap. My roommate turned fake boyfriend slowly gets out of the car, as if he hasn’t noticed how hard it’s storming. As soon as he’s out, I slam the door and sprint all the way to the front doors, trying to be as careful as possible so I don’t slip on the wet pavement.
I reach the entrance and rush inside. Not that it really makes much of a difference. My clothes are already completely soaked, and my hair is wet and matted down to my forehead. I look out through the glass door. Zarmenus is walking slowly, his shoulders hunched and his head hanging low. It makes something catch in my chest.
He finally comes inside. He, too, is now soaking wet, with his black shirt clinging to his frame.
I’ve never seen him like this. It’s like he’s a totally different person. I never thought I’d think this, but I miss the way he used to be. I want to see him smile, just once.
“Hey, don’t let him get to you,” I say. “He’s an asshole.”
Zarmenus’s stare is like a knife. “I’m fine, seriously.”
It’s clear he won’t be winning any Oscars anytime soon. As muchas I want to keep asking him questions, because he is so obviously not, in any way, fine, that would be prying and he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to talk about it.
