I close my eyes as my nostrils swell. “Yes,” I chirp.
“Damn it,” she says under her breath. “I’ll handle this and call you back. And get a grip, Pais. This Boyle fucker obviously isn’t good enough for you since he chose itchy-pussy Dandi over you.”
I roll my eyes. “I really don’t need smoke blown up my ass right now.”
“Okay, could you stop the cussing and bring back my sweet cousin who doesn’t swear like… well, me?”
Tears collect in my eyes. “I don’t know where she is anymore. I gotta go.”
“It’s my fault. I just… I’m handling this, Pais. Hang in there.”
I end our call before she can say another word. How can she handle this, anyway? Sometimes, Treasure’s arrogance is beyond baffling.
I decide to lock the door to my room and cry until I fall asleep. Throughout the night, I hear knocking and my name being called. My cellphone rings a lot too. But I can’t talk to anyone right now. I feel like a failure. And all I want to do is sleep until I don’t feel that way anymore.
* * *
Dreams wreakhavoc on my brain. Hercules is the star of each one of them. Even while I’m asleep, it’s hard to control what’s happening in my unconscious world. Maybe I kiss Hercules. Maybe not. At one point, he banishes Boyles, but to where, I don’t know.
Then, slowly, my eyelids blink open. I cringe at the daylight that’s settled in my room. I forgot to draw the curtains before I fell asleep. I also forgot to turn on my heater, so not only am I cold, but my bladder feels like it’s going burst as well.
“Dang it.” I sit up and then swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I hold myself as I shiver. It feels like someone is playing my head like a conga drum.
It’s apparent that I’ve been out of commission for a while. I’m hungry and thirsty too. If only I could disappear behind closed doors for days without biological needs getting in the way.
Standing, my legs feel like jelly. I stay still and listen really hard for movement beyond my door. It sounds like no one is here but me. I tiptoe to my closet to get my robe and then quietly walk to the door, open it a crack, and look up and down the hallway. Not a creature is stirring, not even a treasonous roommate or another I probably can’t trust with my boyfriend either. What if I’m lucky enough to have Hercules as my next boyfriend? Will my roommates try to bang him too?
I tiptoe to the bathroom, my socks absorbing any sound my walking makes. There are strands of long brunette and blond hair all over the floor and sink. If it weren’t for me, the girl who ironically grew up with housekeepers, the suite would never stay clean. Suddenly, Eden and Dandi’s habits irritate me, maybe because their messiness is further evidence of their disrespect. While releasing my bladder, I think,There’s no way I can live with them anymore.If my parents won’t help me with an apartment, then I’ll squeeze making and selling apps into my busy schedule.
Washing my hands, I get a good look at myself in the mirror. The skin under my eyes is puffy. My face appears bleak. The sooner I’m away from Dandi, the better. Ready to step out into the hallway again, I stand still, checking for movement. There isn’t any. Famished, I head to the kitchen.
My eyes grow wide when I see Eden standing in front of the refrigerator, arms crossed, as if she’s been waiting for me. “Hello there,” she says.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “You’re home.”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “And I heard about what happened at the library.”
The memory of Dandi and my ex fucking plays in my mind.
“We need to talk,” Eden says.
* * *
Eden talksme into letting her drive me downtown so that we can grab a bite to eat at a place where no one has ever seen me. I feel paranoid, like everyone is pointing and laughing at me for dating a guy who bangs my fake friend and roommate. After all, a random girl in my class who I barely speak to was the one who led me to their love lair.
I put on my for-comfort-around-the-house black stretch pants, an oversized T-shirt, and my red Adidas jacket, the one that makes me feel like it’s hugging me. I usually wear it to bed when I need comfort. I forgot to put it on yesterday before I tried sleeping away my woes. It doesn’t work today. I still feel like crap.
As usual, Eden has parked illegally in front of our building. The fact that she so flagrantly breaks the rules still irritates me. Regardless, I climb into the passenger seat, and she drives too fast down the campus roads, not coming to a complete stop at stop signs and honking at pedestrians who have the right-of-way. Nate, my parents’ chauffeur, is a careful driver who follows the speed limits and other traffic laws. Riding shotgun with Eden is always a stressful affair, and when she makes it to the main streets, her driving turns more reckless.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she says, whipping her vehicle around the corner like a madwoman.
I clutch the door handle. “Could you slow down, please?”
She glances at me as if I’m speaking a language she doesn’t understand. “I’m already slowed down.”
“No, you’re not. You’re speeding.”
She huffs. “It’s you, Paisley, not me. Calm the hell down, relax, and you’ll be just fine.”
