The apartment was already leaps and bounds better than what Mac had seen in other places he looked. Most of the apartments he’d seen were either too expensive or barely acceptable for human living. Mac took full scope of the place. Like his friend had told him, it was a one-bedroom with a large living room where he’d reside. He pictured winter nights curling up with a book next to the fireplace. But then he remembered Gideon would probably be there, too.
“Are you still studying sociology? Like patterns and stuff?” Gideon asked.
Mac raised his eyebrows at the polished wood shelves on the fireplace. He couldn’t believe Gideon remembered that. “Yeah. And you still want to be Patrick Bateman, right?”
“Right. Minus the homicidal tendencies.”
“What’s the rent on this place again?”
“Your share would be $600, which includes all utilities.”
Mac hung his head. He wished he hadn’t heard that number. That was lower than anything he could get on his own.
“I’m meeting with a few more people this week. I’ll email you either way,” Gideon said, a little too eagerly.
And that’s a no.Mac rolled his eyes to himself. There was no way he was getting this apartment, no way Gideon wanted him as a roommate. And the feeling was extremely mutual. He took a quick stroll around the apartment before circling back to the door. He just wanted to be fully aware of what he was missing out on. Mac realized he made a terrible mistake when he walked by the kitchen. His breath caught in his chest.
This place has a dishwasher, too?
He was being messed with. Terrible guy, fabulous apartment. Somewhere, someone was laughing.
“You know, you were a real asshole,” Mac said. He’d been thinking about that night for years. Knowing that Gideon was going to have a dishwasher and he’d be forced to live in a dilapidated shack at this point sent him over the edge.
“Are you talking about when you…”
“When I kissed you.”
“I’m straight, Mac. I told you that.”
Mac’s eyes narrowed into slits. He wasn’t getting off that easy. “Only after I made a move. You didn’t say anything the whole time we were talking.”
“I didn’t know I had to.”
“You were flirting with me!” Mac’s voice echoed on the walls.
“No, I wasn’t. We were just talking.”
But Mac remembered every detail from that night. He could give minute-by-minute analysis. “You were smiling at me.”
“People smile at each other when they’re making friends.” Gideon’s calmness drove him crazy.
“You tapped my chest, like this.” Mac demonstrated on himself, which Gideon found humorous. “It’s not funny.”
“I did? I was being friendly, I guess.”
Mac crossed his arms. He had the trump card. “You went up to my room with me. That’s the international symbol for hooking up.”
Gideon took a step closer and crossed his arms right back at him. “If I recall, we weren’t able to get on the Wi-Fi, and you said your dorm was just across the street. I pulled up a picture of a matzo ball, and then you were on me.”
He was so fast with excuses and rationale. He spat them off like an automatic pitching machine.
“You really didn’t know what was going on?”
“No. It was my first time away from my family. I was a naïve freshman, I guess.”
It was just one night, but one Mac wasn’t able to forget. Like all embarrassing, soul-crushing moments, it loved popping back into his mind at the most random occasions, usually when Mac was already feeling down on himself. It was the cherry on top of a crappy mood.
And then there were those times when Mac thought about that night, but with an alternate version that didn’t have them stopping. In fact, this version had them doing more than kissing…
