Page 4 of Expressionate
PresentDay
21 YearsOld
The light bulb flickers overhead as I flip on the bedroom light switch, and Beverly strides through the place in her ginormous high heels. The aroma of her floral perfume permeates the apartment causing me to wrinkle my nose. It’s not that the smell is unpleasant – it’s simply overwhelming, like choking on dollar store air freshener when she passes by. At least I know she'll pay her rent; my last roommate moved out without telling me and she still owed me two months in back rent. Now that I think about it, that's probably why she moved out while I was atwork.
"It's not the best," Beverly states, clutching her iPhone-whatever-number-they're-on-now, and takes another snapshot of a random place in the apartment before quickly texting it to her dozens of friends. Of course, none of her dozens of friends want to room with her either because she's bitchy, self-absorbed, and kind of a twit. I don't care about any of that though. I spend most of my time in my room, at work, or in class – the few that I actually have to attend in person. Most of my classes areonline.
"The rent's cheap," I say, and Beverly looksup.
"Hmmm, then it'll do, I guess." She raises her phone to take a selfie. "New apartment!" she says with a wink and a smile as she takes the picture. When she lowers it to look at the screen, she squeals with glee. "It's perfect. Oh, my followers are gonna love this one onInstagram."
I sigh and take a step inside the bedroom. The window overlooks the back parking lot. It's nothing fancy, and the neighborhood isn't high class, but I've lived in worse places. It's fairly safe and I can get in without any sort of guarantor or cosigner. That's the main issue. I won't ask my father for help and Beverly doesn't understand how to do half the shit it takes to live on her own. She knows how to hand over money, and I don't mind that. I'll pay the bills as long as she gives me her half. Her face pops back in the doorway, blonde hair bouncing over hershoulder.
"When can we move in?" sheasks.
"The landlord said we could move in tomorrow if we pay the deposit today," Ireply.
"How much isthat?"
"Threehundred."
She nods. "Okay, I'm going to head down to the ATM. I'll be right back." She scoots out the door faster than I can say anything. I guess we're moving in tomorrowthen.
When Beverly returns, we head down again to meet with the landlord – an elderly person with white-gray hair and black bushy eyebrows. I still can't tell if it's a man or a woman. By the long hair, I'm inclined to think woman, but men can have long hair too. That, and there are a few scraggly looking hairs poking out of the he-she's chin. He-she tells us to call them Jordan. A gender-neutral name for a confusingly gender-neutral look. I nod and thank the he-she. Beverly is out the door before the ink is dry on the lease – telling me she’ll be aroundlater.
"See you tomorrow." I wave absently to our new landlord – or landlady? – as I head out. As I walk across the parking lot to my old car, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I frown down at the text message from my boyfriend, Todd. That is, if you can call someone I barely see and only have sex with every now and then myboyfriend.
Todd:I know you've been really busy lately and we just haven't seen each other, but I'd like to see you tonight. Can I take you out? Pick you up around7?
I grimace, my fingers sliding over the screen as I debate. I’m not really in the mood, but he’s right. We haven’t seen each other in a while, and I know there’s something I need to do. If not for myself, then for him. I shoot back a quick reply, agreeing to the time. Better now than months down the road, when he still thinks there’s a chance that I can lovehim.
I drop my phone in the cup holder between the front seats of my shitty Buick and turn the ignition. Backing out slowly, I watch as a medium sized U-Haul, followed by a couple more smaller cars, pulls in after me. A dark head of hair appears out the side of one of the cars – a Jeep – and a flash of golden hair in the seat next to the man catches my attention. It's a young girl, probably a teenager. She looks like a ray of sunshine – not unlike my sister – while the guy in the driver's seat is massive, barely fitting in the tiny excuse for a vehicle. Probably one of the new tenants, I decide as I turn out of the parking lot and head back to my dorm. Tonight will be the last night I ever sleep there, and I’m more than ready to get it overwith.
* * *
Hours later,Todd texts me that he’s here. I snatch a light shawl off of the back of my desk chair and lock the door behind me, taking the long way down via the stairs instead of the elevator. My stomach cramps with every step. When I make it outside, Todd smiles as he leans up against his jacked, red Ford F-150. I step up next to him and he leans down to kiss me softly on the cheek. His light blond hair pokes the side of my face as he pulls away. It’s brushed awkwardly in a spiky disarray. “Ready to go?” he asks, taking myhand.
“Yeah.” His soft blue eyes remind me of robins’ eggs because they're so pale and flecked with nude hues. His chiseled jaw is highlighted by his high cheekbones and the passing street lights as we drive through thecity.
Silence stretches between us. Out of the corner of my eye – across the seat – I notice Todd’s hand inching towards mine. My chest coils tight as I pull my hand away and settle myself closer to the door, even going so far as to roll the window down and let the hot air into the cab. If Todd’s disappointed, he doesn’t showit.
The dinner is over rather quickly – passing in a blur between the restaurant and the streets. Shapeless, nameless faces move around me, and Todd’s one of them. At least, he is until he pulls up to a stop outside my dorm. As his hand reaches for the key in the ignition, I stophim.
“This isn’t working out, Todd.” The words fall from my lips like scripted lines, hollow andinsincere.
“What?” Todd’s robins’ egg eyes widen as he stares across the seat at me. When he reaches out for me, I shake my head. His hands stop a mere inch from my arms. “Love?” He sounds confused,upset.
“I think it would be better, for both of us, if we stop seeing each other.” I pop the door open and slide onto thepavement.
“Is it me?” Todd’s question follows meout.
I turn around. His brows are drawn down low over his eyes. I don’t get it. Logically, if something doesn’t work then you either care enough to fix it or you throw it away. I don’t care enough about him. It’s not his fault. It’s mine. But he should know, shouldn’t he? That something isn’t right with me. That I don’t feel the same way he feels. Ican’tfeel the same way he feels. That little piece that makes people care, that makes them love, connect, give even the most minuscule of shits about something outside themselves. Mine is small. Tiny. There’s barely enough room for my sister. And even her, I don’tunderstand.
I force a smile, feeling a chill sweep through me, loosening the coil in my chest, as I turn back. “No, Todd, it’s notyou.”
“Love!” He reaches for me as I move to close the door behind me. “We’re good together, you and me. Why are you doingthis?”
He truly thinks we’re good together? Weexisttogether. I pass through the motions. He reaches for me and I stand still. He’s trying. He’s hoping. He’s fighting. And I don’t care. I don’t see what he sees. I see in black and white and he sees in color. He’s normal. I’m broken. He’s being human, and I’m just pretending. We don’t work well together. I close thedoor.
