“I don’t want to lose my scholarships, either,” he says. “I could use government money to pay for an apartment, but I’m trying to save as much of that as possible. That’s why I went dorm instead of my own apartment. Way cheaper for me. Keeps me on-campus. Not like I’m not used to bunking with a bunch of other guys. Having only one roommate is sort of an upgrade, for me.” He snorts. “Hell, having a real bed and air-conditioning is an upgrade from what I was used to.”
I hadn’t even thought about all of that that. “I figured you picked the dorms because you’re from Vermont.”
“Nah. Everything I own, with the exception of a few boxes stored at Mom and Dad’s place, is in the dorm room. Got used to living light. Raised that way, as many times as we moved when I was a kid for Dad’s stations.”
“Wow.” I mean, I don’t have a lot of room to talk, but at least I have a storage unit.
I had more stuff before Mom “cleaned” my room for me. She’ll likely never admit it was because I pissed her off by not driving home for Easter dinner because I had spent the entire night before on the toilet, shitting my guts out, thanks to bad sushi.
Mom never gives a sick pass, unless it makes her look good to do so, or it’s something like ending up in the hospital, or a communicable bug she might catch.
Likewise, I’ll never confront her about what she did, because I know she’ll deny the motivation. Which means she’ll take satisfaction in lying about it and knowing how much it really bothered me after all.
It’s far more satisfying for menotto confront her about it, denying her the satisfaction of knowing it burrowed under my skin. It’s the only weapon I currently have against the narcissist.
I’m getting the feeling Carter and I will likely get along well this year.
“Not to get ahead of myself,” I say, “but if things go okay this year, mind me calling dibs on you as a roommate next year?”
He smiles. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
The cashier finally rings me out and I pay for my stuff using my debit card. I try to hand Carter a twenty, the only cash I have on me, but he waves me off.
“It’s okay. If I couldn’t afford it, I wouldn’t do it. Another benefit of this is I have very little in expenses. Besides school, I have my cell phone and car insurance.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I’m drawing a disability pension right now, and I have the stipend from my scholarship. VA takes care of my medical. I’m okay.”
Back at the dorm I help him carry everything inside, trying to grab the heaviest bags myself since he’s the one who bought it all.
All the cold stuff he bought fits neatly in the two small fridges in our room.
Well,Cartermakes it neatly fit. I suspect if I’d tried putting it away it wouldn’t have worked.
“Bring me one of your empty totes,” he says.
I do, and the rest of our non-perishables fit in that, with plenty of room for it to sit next to the fridges and still be out of our way.
His voice drops. “Once we get to know the others, then maybe we can store our stuff in the big fridge in the kitchen. I don’t want to have to drop into asshole mode our first weekend here because someone ate our shit.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
He toes off his sneakers. “I go for a run most mornings, if you’d like to join me. Let me clarify—I go out every morning. Might be more of a slow stroll than an actual run tomorrow, depending on my pain. I need to scope out the exercise room in this dorm and see if I like it, or if I’ll have to go over to the gym. I’ll probably do weights or machines some mornings if I can’t manage a walk or run. I get bored on a treadmill.”
I’ve been wanting to get into an exercise routine and this sounds perfect. “Thanks. I’d like that.” I find myself…I don’t want to use the word “clinging,” but there really isn’t a better word.
I’m already clinging to Carter.
Except I don’t have siblings—who I actually know—my parents are worthless, and I really don’t have any close friends.
Carter’s good with it, right? Has kind of already adopted me as a little brother. That makes it okay.
Doesn’t it?
* * * *
Carter hits the shower while I’m catching up on Facebook and e-mail. I picked a dorm this year because my scholarship would pay for it, and if I wanted an apartment—or a better dorm room—I’d have to get a job to afford the difference.
