When I wake up hours later, the house is quiet again. For a while, I lay still, listening to the sound of the wind against my windowpane. A light dusting of flurries falls from the gray sky. It’s one of those days I just want to stay in bed in a pair of sweats and devour a good book, but my stomach growls, putting an end to that idea.
I pull my thick terrycloth robe from the back of the chair and tie it tightly around me to chase away the chill.
After taking a deep breath, I slowly open my door. If Blake’s home, there isn’t any sign of him. His door is closed, and the apartment is silent.
I can’t keep doing this. There’s no way I’m going to be able to live here with him; I feel like a prisoner sequestered to her cell. I don’t want to think about what he’s doing, or what I might walk in on.
I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit down at the small dining table. This is how it should be, I think, pulling my knees to my chest. Quiet. Peaceful. Comfortable. Alone. My eyes fixate on the snow falling outside as my mind wanders off.
There’s still so much I want to do with my life. Coming here was obviously the first step, but the last thing I want is to get stuck working at Charlie’s for the next few years just to escape my old life. I want to live in a place I love, spending my days doing what I love. No matter what it takes, I’m going to get there.
After finishing my cereal, I grab a pad of paper and pen from the table and scribble House Rules across the top. Blake and I are both adults; we should be able to make this work until I find a better solution. Besides, if I have to find my own place, it’s going to take a while longer before I have enough savings to make it happen.
When I’m done, I have exactly five rules. They sound fair enough, not asking him to do anything I wouldn’t do for him. I set it on the end of the counter and take one more look out the large window in the living room. The light coating of snow on everything makes it look peaceful, and I wish I could take the rest of the day to just explore. I want to find the art scene, to make new friends.
Maybe tomorrow when I have a day off.
My phone rings from the bedroom, pulling my attention away. I run across the cool floors, anxious to hear a familiar voice.
I slide my thumb across the screen to answer and lift it to my ear. “Hello.”
“Hey, just thought I’d call and see how your first day in Chicago went.” It’s Mallory.
“Well, besides living with your brother, everything’s fine.”
She sighs. “Is he giving you a hard time? ‘Cause I’ll kick his ass.”
“I think you already know the answer. Can’t he stay somewhere else?”
“That bad, huh?”
“He’s the most stubborn, inconsiderate—”
“I know,” she interrupts. “I’ve had to deal with him for twenty-four years.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me he was living here? I would’ve made other arrangements.” Like maybe stay home for a few more months to save money for a deposit on an apartment and make damn sure I had a good job. It sucked staying in that town, but it wouldn’t have killed me.
“He didn’t move in until just a couple weeks ago . . . after we talked about you using it while I’m out of town. He’s been going through a lot, and I couldn’t tell him no.”
I sit on the edge of my bed, pulling at the belt of my robe with my free hand. “I made some house rules. Hopefully that will help.”
She laughs hysterically at the other end of the phone.
“Shit,” I mutter, falling back onto the mattress.
“Yep.” I hear her tongue click. “Anyway, it’s getting late here. I have class early in the morning, so I’m going to go to bed. I just wanted to check in.”
“Yeah, I need to get ready for work.”
“You got a job! Why didn’t you tell me you found something?” she asks, excitedly.
“It’s not anything to brag about.”
“Well, where is it?”
I hesitate, nibbling on my lower lip. “Charlie’s. It’s just a couple blocks from here.”
There’s a short pause before she says anything else. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there, but be careful walking through that neighborhood alone at night. Maybe you should have Blake pick you up when your shift is over.”
“There’s a girl I work with who doesn’t mind giving me a ride. And as far as never being there before, you’re not missing much.” The cruddy, outdated interior flashes through my mind. The smell. The people. I could live without ever having to go back there.
“Ugh, well hopefully you’ll find another job soon. Go downtown and check with some of the design or architecture firms,” she suggests.
“I will early next week.”
She yawns. “I better let you go before I fall asleep. I’ll call you again in a couple days, okay?”
“All right. Sleep well.”
“Have fun at work,” she says, right before she hangs up.
Noticing the time, I clear my head and get ready for my second night at Charlie’s. God, help me.
There’s only a little more than an hour before closing time. The place was packed for three hours straight, but things are finally slowing down. I’ve made enough tips to pay a month’s worth of student loans, though, so I can’t complain about that.
“My feet are killing me,” Dana says, sliding up next to me at the bar.
I look down at her four-inch heels and roll my eyes. “You should get a pair of chucks.”
“Charlie is going to be pissed if he sees those on your feet.”
“He’ll get over it.”
She smiles. “You’re probably right. He’s not going to fire a hot little piece like you.”
“Great, just what I always wanted. A job that I keep simply based on my looks. Besides, I’m tired and I could care less what I look like.”
Her brows furrow. “Did someone party after work last night?”
“I wish. My nightmare of a roommate brought that blonde home from the bar, and I guess he’s not all that quiet when he screws.” The whole messed up vision crosses through my mind again. If only magic eraser worked for everything.
“Wait, are you jealous?” she asks, her lips pulling into a smile.
Defensiveness rises in my veins. “Hell no. I’m annoyed, Dana. There’s a big difference.” And, maybe I’m a little bit jealous.
She laughs.
I growl. She’s so wrong, or I’m in denial.
Charlie appears at the other end of the bar, staring at us. Besides reading countless drink orders off to him, I’ve barely talked to him all night. “Do you girls need help finding something to do?”
“No, Charlie,” Dana says, “We’re just trying to . . . regroup.”
“Whatever. I don’t pay you to regroup. Get out there and check drinks.”
With a collective groan, we disperse to our respective tables. Tonight hasn’t been as bad as last night. No comments that crossed any lines. No touching. If every night were more like this, I might be able to handle it for a few months.
“Hey, baby!” a balding, middle-aged man calls as I maneuver my way between tables. “Can I get another Bud Light? I’ve been empty for over ten minutes.”
“Sorry,” I answer, backing away. “I’ll grab you another.”
I swivel on my back heel to get to the bar, but I run smack dab into a muscular chest instead. “You should really watch where you’re going,” Blake says, grinning down at me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “If you sat down at a table, we wouldn’t have that problem.”
“Oh, trust me, we’d still have a problem. It might not be this one, but we’d definitely have one.”
“Look, I don’t have time for this shit tonight.” I try to push past him, but he grips my upper arm, halting my progress.