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Love Thy Roommate

H. S. Volfson


Love Thy Roommate

  a novel by

  H. S. Volfson

  Copyright Information

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Graphicz X Designs (https://graphiczxdesigns.zenfolio.com)

  Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Acknowledgements

  I wish to thank all the friends and family who have supported me in this creative endeavor. There were times when I believed I would never finish this, my first published work; however, those closest to me always pushed me to work through my writers’ block and power through to the end. It is because of you all that there is a finished copy of Love Thy Roommate to purchase and read, and I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Chapter One

  In a blue two-story house on Oak Street in historic Denton, Texas, four University of North Texas students in their early twenties sat around a dark cherry wood coffee table in the surprisingly well-decorated living room. The walls contained tasteful paintings in expensive frames, and the furniture was clearly neither used nor from IKEA, the college student’s haven for new, affordable furnishings. It was clear by looking around the lower floor of the house – the kitchen, dining room, and living room, specifically – that everything in the house had been chosen by someone who cared a great deal about appearances.

  The person in question was a twenty-three-year-old man in pressed khaki pants and a starched white button-down under a navy blue sweater. With his well-styled black hair and icy blue eyes, he could easily have been found on the pages of a J. Crew catalogue, but at this particular moment he sat in a dark brown leather recliner in an upright position, his legs crossed neatly in front of him. On his right was a cherry wood end table that matched the coffee table, and next to that, facing the long end of the coffee table and the large flat-screen television, was a brown leather couch that matched the recliner. It contained two other men of the same age – a dark-skinned athletic type in black basketball shorts and a white tee shirt, and a brown-haired man in faded blue jeans and a black UNT hoodie. All three men were focused on a second recliner next to the other end table, beside the other end of the couch – both recliners faced each other, with the couch between them. They weren’t so much focused on the chair itself, however; what really captivated their interest was the twenty-year-old woman seated there.

  “So, Miriam,” the J. Crew enthusiast began, clasping his hands together. “Why don’t you begin by telling us a little bit about yourself and why you’re interested in becoming our new roommate?”

  Miriam bounced a little in her seat and gripped the armrests with a nervous smile. “Um, well, my name is Miriam, obviously – Miriam Silver – and I’m a music ed major. I’ll be a senior at the end of the summer, but I’m in a five-year program, so I have two years left before I get my BME. I’m minoring in Vocal Studies, and I want to be a choir director.” She paused briefly for breath. “Um…I’m from Plano – I’m actually living there right now, staying with my parents, I took the train out here today—”

  “The train? You don’t have a car?” The man dressed for the gym cut her off.

  “Oh – no, I don’t,” Miriam answered, taken aback at the interruption. “I drove my dad’s old car in high school, but it died right before I started here, and I didn’t bother buying a new one; I didn’t really need it living on-campus for my first two years here, and then I lived at City Parc for this past year until I broke my lease a couple of weeks ago, so it was close enough to walk wherever I needed to go.” She beamed at them. “I love the location of this house – it’s a little bit further of a walk to class and all, but still totally reasonable, and it’s so close to the Square—”

  “You broke your lease at City Parc?” She was cut off again, this time by the guy in the hoodie. “Why?”

  Her eyes widened; she clearly regretted the mention of her broken lease. “Um. Personal reasons?”

  The two men on the couch exchanged dubious glances while the one in the other chair ignored them and simply smiled encouragingly at her. “Can you elaborate on that for us, Miriam? I think we would feel better knowing why you broke your lease – we frown on broken leases here, you see. If it was just a one-time thing, extreme circumstances…well, we’d be more understanding.”

  Miriam’s cheerful grin weakened somewhat as she twirled her fingers through her light brown curls. “Well, you see…I-just-broke-up-with-my-boyfriend-who-was-sleeping-with-my-roommate-the-whole-year-we-lived-together-and-I-couldn’t-get-them-to-move-me-into-an-apartment-with-someone-else-once-I-renewed-my-lease-and-I-didn’t-really-want-to-live-with-another-girl-after-that-because-Mei-seemed-so-nice-and-she-was-really-a-boyfriend-stealing-slut-and-now-I’m-staying-with-my-parents—” she took a deep breath before continuing. “And now, I just really need a place to live that’s walking-distance from campus with roommates that aren’t awful, and this house is really nice, and I was so excited to hear about it—”

  “How did you hear about it, exactly?” the athletic one asked, his displeased expression matching that of the man next to him. “I didn’t think we’d put an ad up yet. There’s not even a sign outside.”

  “O-kay!” The wannabe catalogue model jumped up from his chair. “Jake, Damian – may I see you in the kitchen for a moment?”

  The other guys followed him and held a tense whispered conversation by the refrigerator.

  “No way, Fink,” Damian, the one in shorts, started off. “My vote is a definite ‘no.’”

  “What? Why?” Fink, the immaculately groomed one, whisper-yelled. “What reason could you possibly have to keep that sweet girl from moving in here?”

  “Seriously? Just pick one!” Jake, in the faded jeans and hoodie, answered for Damian. “She said her boyfriend cheated on her, so she’s going to be bitter and bitchy, crying non-stop—”

  “Like you were three months ago?” Fink shot back.

  “—plus she’s young – she’s not even twenty-one! She’ll be asking us to buy her booze all the time! And she doesn’t have a car; who do you think is going to be driving her around, Fink? She says she can walk, sure, but you know she’ll be begging us for rides.”

  “Don’t forget that she’s a music major,” Damian warned. “Those people are crazy. I used to date a bassoonist – she was wild in bed, but she was so high-strung and neurotic, she screamed at me if I chewed my food too loudly!”

  “You’re a loud eater, Damian,” Fink reminded him.

  “That’s beside the point,” Jake cut in. “She does not belong in this house, period. Why are we even interviewing a girl, anyway? I thought we were going to look for another guy to replace Terrence.”

  Fink sighed. “Alright, guys, the cat’s out of the bag.” He shook his head, defeated. “You know how my dad is vice-president of our temple?”

  “You’ve mentioned it,” Jake answered exasperatedly.

  “Well, Miriam’s dad is the president. Our parents are, like, best friends. Miriam’s parents told my parents about her situation, and my dad said she could move in here.” Fink looked pained. “Guys, if we don’t let her move in here, my dad is going to make me start paying rent. He owns this house – he gets final say on who can live here and how much rent they pay, and damn it, I can’t pay rent! My internship barely pays ten dollars an hour, and my name is on the side of the building!”

  Damian and Jake both glared at him. “Man, we pay rent, and we don’t make much either!” Damian pointed out. “I’m an i
ntern, too, and not at Daddy’s office. Accounting internships – any internship, for that matter – in Denton pay crap. And Jake lives on tips!”

  “Plus my meager salary,” Jake added.

  “Please, guys, don’t do this to me!” Fink begged. “I can’t spare an extra three hundred dollars each month!”

  “You could if you weren’t such a fancy-pants,” Jake pointed out. “You spend all your money on clothes. And hair products. And skin care products! Just shop at less expensive stores, wash your face with soap like a normal person, and buy store-brand gel, or mousse, whatever it is that you use.”

  Fink gaped. “Are you insane?” he hissed. “Absolutely not! Look, we can deal with this, okay? We can lay down ground rules with her; it’ll be fine. She might even have hot friends. Hot friends are worth it, right?”

  “Ugh,” Damian sighed. “Whatever, man. If this turns out horribly, we will be blaming you.”

  “Guys?” Miriam called from the living room. “The kitchen doesn’t have a door or anything; I can totally hear, like, everything you’re saying.”

  Jake groaned. “Ugh, and she’s nosy, too.”

  She entered the kitchen with a wide smile. “No, I’m just not deaf. So…when can I move in?”

  “As soon as you can get your stuff here,” Fink answered, glancing apologetically at his roommates. “What about tomorrow? It’s a Saturday; we’ll all be here.”

  “Great!” Miriam cried, causing all of the guys to wince. “My parents and I will bring everything in the morning. I’m so excited!” She hugged Fink, who patted her on the back while giving an awkward smile to the others. “I’ll call them as soon as I get back on the train!” She glanced at the microwave clock and gasped. “Actually, could one of you guys maybe drop me off at the station? I know that it’s close by, but this took longer than I had expected and my train leaves in ten minutes – I don’t want to take a chance on missing it.”

  Damian and Jake glared at Fink, who sighed. “Alright, I’m going.”

  Chapter Two

  Jake Perry was not a morning person.

  He was so, very, definitely not a morning person.

  For Jake to be awake and alert before eight in the morning, it had to be extraordinarily important. On a weekend, when he’d just spent the last five days on his feet serving customers all day and then (during the long semesters, at least) sitting through night classes? It required a national emergency.

  So it was with extreme displeasure that Jake stumbled down the stairs at half-past seven on Saturday morning. “What,” he hissed, “is wrong with you people? Why are you making so much noise when I should be sleeping for at least four more hours?”

  “Good morning to you, too, Jake,” a familiar voice startled him, and he turned around to find himself face-to-face with his landlord, Ben Finkelstein, walking through the front door.

  “Mr. Finkelstein! It’s nice to see you, sir,” Jake stammered, backing up and hitting the cream-colored living room wall. “What, uh, what brings you to Denton today?”

  Fink’s dad laughed. “Calm down, son; you’re not in trouble. I’m here to help your new roommate get moved in – Miriam’s piano was too heavy for her father to load onto the truck himself, and then I came along for the ride.” He pointed to the kitchen counter. “Miriam brought bagels for everyone. Why don’t you have one – and some coffee, I think – and then join the other guys in bringing her things in?”

  Sensing that this was not a request and that going back to sleep was not an option, Jake took a warm bagel from the brown paper bag, slathered it with the accompanying cream cheese, and gulped down a cup of black coffee before heading out the door to help.

  “Good morning, Jake!” Miriam greeted him cheerfully as she struggled to lug a large, heavy suitcase up the front walk. “How’s your bagel?”

  “Dandy,” he answered flatly, finishing his last bite and taking a moment to observe his surroundings as he took the suitcase from her, as she sighed in relief. Damian and an older man with salt-and-pepper hair were carefully wheeling a shiny black upright piano up the walkway with an older brunette woman supervising, and Fink was shirtless and carrying a large box past a tall, tan girl with long black hair who was clearly uninterested in the show he was putting on for her, if the looks of disdain she was giving him were any indication. Fink’s shirt lay on the grass near the truck; Jake assumed it had been yanked off and thrown aside the moment Fink had gotten a look at Miriam’s companion – something he could be counted upon to do any time an attractive female showed up that he thought he could impress by showing off his abdominal muscles.

  There was too much activity in front of the house for this hour on a weekend. The best thing to do at this point, from Jake’s perspective, was for him to take over and move things along as quickly as possible in the hope that all of the people who didn’t actually live there would leave and he could go back to bed.

  Jake ducked into the house to drop Miriam’s suitcase just inside the door and then turned back to her. “Is there anything left in the truck that you could carry upstairs, if I brought it to you?” he asked. “This will get done a lot faster that way.”

  She smiled up at him (she never seemed to stop – he found it unnerving) and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a great idea! The stuff for my bed and my desk are in there and they’re not too heavy when they’re separated – I should be able to get most of it upstairs.”

  He was already halfway to the truck to inspect what was left – just bedding, the mattress and box spring (bigger than his own – he’d have to get one of the other guys to help with those), and the bed and desk in pieces. He grabbed the two bags full of bedding and hurried back to the front door just as the piano went through it followed by Fink and the unidentified girl. “Here,” he said, dropping the bags and turning to walk back to the truck for more. He paused – she was really kind of tiny to be carrying anything up the stairs and he suddenly felt worried she might hurt herself. Normally, he wouldn’t be concerned about a stranger’s welfare, but something tugged at him, making him feel obligated to look out for her. He shook his head, deciding it was probably just that she seemed so childlike in her size and general demeanor. “If something’s too heavy for you, don’t try to carry it up yourself,” he ordered gruffly. “One of us will get it.” He walked quickly to the truck as she called out, “Okay, thanks!”

  ***

  Within another hour, everything of Miriam’s was in the house, and Fink’s dad was seeing an early movie with her parents while Miriam and her friend – whose name was Libby, Fink had gleefully informed Jake and Damian – were unpacking all of her stuff. By this time, Jake had guzzled so much coffee that there was no chance of falling back asleep, so he, Damian, and Fink had resigned themselves to putting together the queen-sized bed, blue wooden desk and hutch, and matching dresser. Jake had even hung her full-length mirror on the closet door without being asked – not out of the goodness of his heart or anything; he just liked putting things together and seeing the results of a finished project. Plus, the sooner they were done, the sooner he could relax and not have to continue listening to the ridiculous hip-hop and dance mix coming out of Miriam’s iPad speakers. His lip curled in disgust; what kind of person would like this crap?

  “Ugh,” Miriam shuddered, apparently sharing his sentiments. “Libby, I know you like this music, but we’re not at a club – can you please change it?”

  Libby shrugged, sifting through boxes. “I didn’t pick it. Fink did.”

  “What can I say?” Fink grinned at her. “I love to dance!” He jumped up and started gyrating to the song, his moves slightly reminiscent of a male stripper.

  Libby covered her eyes. “Someone please tell me when this is over.”

  Miriam groaned at the display. “It’ll never be over. He used to do this at all of our youth group events. Jake, you’re pretty close to the iPad – can you switch it?”

  He didn’t need to be told twice; he was already scrolling through her Pandora
stations before she had even finished making the request. He was surprised to see that most of her stations could be found on his account, too – he hadn’t expected to share a similar taste in music with her. It was nice, actually – he loved his other roommates like they were his own brothers, but music was something they just couldn’t agree on. He selected a more appropriate station and was grateful when Fink stopped dancing and flopped into Miriam’s desk chair.

  “Oh, you like Phoenix, too?” Miriam beamed at him, folding a pair of pants before setting them in a drawer.

  “Yeah, definitely,” he answered, heaving himself up from the floor by the desk to straighten the mirror. “Actually, I like a lot of what you have on there. You, uh…you have good taste in music.”

  “Sweet baby Jesus!” Damian cut in, shocked. “Miriam, you should know that in the two decades we’ve been friends, Jake has never once complimented anyone’s musical taste. He just calls everything we like ‘noise.’ This is a real breakthrough for him.”

  “Whatever,” Jake mumbled, glancing around the room for a way to change the subject as Libby left the room with Miriam’s bathroom items, Fink hot on her heels. “So, why do you have such a big bed, anyway? You’re, like, four feet tall and three inches across.” He was exaggerating, but not much – she really was a tiny little thing. If it wasn’t for her curvy figure, she could pass for a middle-schooler.