“It’s not as easy to do from my phone.” I’ve been playing Dragons Reborn for the last two years, but Drew never caught the hype. Since it’s possible my personal laptop is older than I am, he lets me borrow his to play from time to time.
Drew and I have been BFFs since we met ten years ago. I attached myself to his side after he punched Brad Metzer — another foster kid — when he tried to steal my winter coat. Being friends with and protected by Drew is half the reason I made it out of foster care mostly unscathed. I haven’t regretted having him for a best friend once.
“So you’ll play his video game but won’t suck his dick?”
Okay, I’ve regretted it a few times.
“Oh my God.” I reach across the space and hit him in the arm. “It’s nothisgame and you’re so crass.”
“I might be crass,” he repeats the word in this fake “Clare” voice he likes to mimic me with on occasion, “but you’re being daft. You won’t fuck Grant because you’re worried you’ll turn out like your mother, but you, Clare Cunningham, are too smart for that.”
“Don’t say fuck.” I mumble unintelligibly about my mother being smart as well and let the subject drop. Drew and I both have our reasons for ending up in foster care. His involved an alcoholic father with a mean left hook and mine a mother with a long prison term for drug distribution.
My prison visits with my mother contain some of our best memories. Mainly because she’s sober. Theresa wasn’t a terrible mom and there were times she tried, but the heartache of my father leaving her when I was a baby became too much. It wasn’t always drugs, but one thing has a way of leading to another and none of it leads uphill.
Drew is right though, I’m smarter than my mom because I will never allow a man to break my heart.
The big game goes to a commercial and Drew’s attention returns to me. “Fine. Ignore your Grant problem, but eventually we will need to deal with the roommate situation.”
My nose crinkles at the thought of what is to come. Searching for a roommate sucks donkey ass. Drew’s girlfriend was our fourth roommate, and while she paid rent a month in advance, we need to fill her space quickly or we’ll be screwed.
“Yuck.” I cringe at the thought. “Did you put a new ad on Craigslist?”
Cassie’s departure is the second time we’ve had to find a replacement because Drew slept with a housemate.
“And remember it must be a guy this time because you are not allowed to date the roommates anymore.”
“I posted the ad, but you need to focus on being less picky this time if you want to find someone suitable. It will be hard to find one that can meet your ridiculous demands.”
“My demands are not ridiculous.” I don’t want to live with a creeper. It’s not too much to ask, is it?
“Clare,” he pauses long enough to give me a drawn-out expression. “You wouldn’t let Cassie cook fish.”
“And…” I stand by the decision. The whole house smelled of ocean for a week.
“We are never going to find another roommate like Blake, so you need to stop looking.”
Blake. I sigh and tilt my head at the ceiling pretending I can see him on the third floor.
Blake is the best roommate ever. He lives on the top floor of the house with a private entrance and never uses the house besides his room and the private third floor bathroom. He has a mini fridge up there so we don’t have to share fridge shelf space. We’ve seen him less than five times in the last three years. Each sighting was unexpected, causing us to react like he’s Bigfoot. His rent checks mysteriously appear on the kitchen counter every month and we don’t ask questions. It’s a perfect arrangement.
The other three bedrooms are on the second floor with one shared bath. They require much more interaction between us. That’s why picking a new roommate for the second floor is such a delicate balance. We have to get it exactly right.
“You should let me pick the roommate on my own this time.” Drew suggests as if it’s the best idea ever.
“What? I don’t think so. Are you on drugs?” Drew would find someone to sit around and watch football with all day and then I’d be surrounded by men.
“I’ll let you use the laptop whenever you want without making fun or calling you a nerd.”
I roll my eyes at his offer. We both know that’s a promise he could never keep.
“You’re so busy, Clare. At least let me do the grunt work of whittling our choices.”
“Fine.” Last time we had hundreds of people email expressing their interest. “But I at least get to meet them before you say yes and someone starts moving their shit in here.”
