It couldalwaysbe worse.
“Hey, cuz, need any help in here?” Rufus says, bounding into the room with all the energy of a golden retriever.
Rufus has a shaggy blond mane, boyish cheeks, and round eyes. When they were younger, during family barbecues, Rufus would follow the older cousins around asking a million questions and always trying to start up a game of soccer or Wiffle ball or capture the flag. Greg, the nearest in age, would usually leave the older kids who were drinking and shit-talking to play HORSE with Rufus at the basketball hoop in the driveway. He knew a thing or two about being an outsider, and he wouldn’t wish those feelings on anyone.
“Jeez, dude, did you go stand in the shower?” Rufus asks. A droplet of sweat drips down Greg’s nose.
“There was no AC in the moving truck, and it’s hot as balls in here,” Greg says, reaching for another paper towel. His mind has slowed, but his sweat glands haven’t, leaving him uncomfortably damp. “What happened to the AC unit from the pictures you sent me?” It’s unseasonably warm for mid-September. He was hoping the Lehigh Valley with its plentiful green spaces and lower population would mean cooler, crisper weather, but that’s not what welcomed him.
Rufus steps over to the window. “Yeah, about that... My last roomie kind of jacked it. Took off in the middle of the night with the unit. Ripped it clear out of the window. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t hear it. Slept through it like a baby.”
Greg tamps down any anger firing through his neurons. He takes a meditative breath.It’s all going to work out.“Got it. Well, either I’ll get into hot yoga or invest in a unit myself.” He forces a smile, as he always does, when faced with a setback.
“I can float you some cash if you need it,” Rufus offers, leaning into the window frame.
Greg resolutely shakes his head, masking with a sunshiny demeanor. If he projects it on the outside, maybe he’ll feel it on the inside. “I won’t hear of it. You’re already doing me a solid with this place and the price.”
Rufus nods with understanding, but Greg grows antsy. Wonders if his younger cousin knows he’s holding back. Maybe Rufus, after growing up together, can read Greg’s situation all over his sweat-sheened face.
Greg isn’t withholding. He just doesn’t want to be that guy. The anxious charity case. If he’s not mistaken, Rufus has always considered him to be like an older brother. He doesn’t want to shatter the illusion that he has his life together. He doesn’t want the truth of his debt and his mental health to trickle out to other members of his family. Especially the ones he rarely speaks to these days.
The sunshiny mask slips, but only for a second. Luckily, Rufus doesn’t catch it.
It’s all fine. All smiles. Greg puts on a soft rock playlist, hands Rufus his extra box cutter, and starts unloading his belongings. They work for the next hour, chatting and reminiscing and deciding where to hang his pictures. Over the bed or by the door?
The last thing they do is set up “the studio.” In New York, Greg didn’t need to stage his content. When he did photo shoots for IG or videos for TikTok, he did them right out of his own state-of-the-art kitchen. Of course that meant keeping the kitchen impeccably clean, but he didn’t mind. While cleaning wasn’t his favorite activity, he liked showing off his beautiful apartment. Liked knowing he’d earned something, despite what others had said about him starting at a very young age.
“If you ever need, like, a director or a lighting guy, I’m around,” Rufus says as they strain to lug the rolling bar cart up the stairs. The entryway is narrow and stuffy, and Greg is sweating again. He really should’ve changed his shirt.
“That would be awesome. I do have a tripod and stuff to do it all myself, though, so I won’t need to bother you,” he says, mostly because above all else, he hates being a bother. His charm has always been one of his greatest gifts, but he’s never used it for favors. Instead, he prefers to use it for making friends, meeting guys.
Objectively, he’s attractive. He wouldn’t have amassed such a following without a symmetrical face and a worked-out body, but he’s always believed his looks were a superpower, and like Spider-Man, they came with great responsibility. That meant not being a douche about it.
“I don’t mind. Sometimes during the day I need a break from staring at my computer screen,” Rufus says as they enter the room with some trial and error.
“So you want to stare at my phone screen instead?” Greg asks.
“Good point,” Rufus says with a laugh. “I’m just saying. My last roommate kind of kept to himself. We haven’t seen each other in a few years, so I’d really like to hang out and stuff.” Rufus says this so earnestly that Greg wants to go back and say something to his older cousins who ragged on Rufus for being annoying.
“I’d like that,” Greg says right before they situate the bar cart in the corner in front of the green drop they hung earlier. “So what are our plans for tonight then?” He doesn’t start at Martin’s Place until Tuesday, so he’s got the whole weekend to explore Allentown and the surrounding suburbs and get to know his new home for the time being. Who knows? Maybe he’ll fall in love with it and want to stay.
Rufus says, “Oh shit, sorry, cuz, I actually have plans tonight.”
Greg hides his disappointment with that well-practiced smile again. It’s been a decade since those family barbecue days, so he’s not sure why he assumed Rufus was still the hyperactive loner he was back then. “Gotcha. No worries, man.”
“I’m meeting my girlfriend to see the new Jordan Peele movie,” Rufus says. “You should come! I bet Jessica would love to meet you.”
He knows Rufus means the invitation genuinely, but he really doesn’t want to be a third wheel on his first night at his new place. Even if being alone for hours in this strange house might ramp his anxiety back up again. “Ah, thanks, but you go and have fun. I should really finish and get situated here.”
“You sure?” Rufus asks. “Maybe we can meet up for drinks or ice cream afterward?”
He has a feeling Rufus isn’t going to quit until he accepts the offer. Thankfully (or not so thankfully) his phone lights up at that exact moment. The number on the screen sends a shiver down his spine, but he makes no show of that. Instead, he says, “You know what? I totally forgot a buddy of mine is in the area and suggested we grab dinner tonight. This is him right now.” He waves his phone with confidence. “Can we rain check the ice cream?”
“Sure thing,” Rufus says. “I’m heading out in a half hour, so I’ll see you in the morning probably.”
“Sounds good,” says Greg. “Can you shut the door on your way out?”
When the door clicks back into place, instead of picking up, he guiltily declines the call from his credit card company and continues setting up his room.
