“That’s fucked up. Couldn’t you wait till I was done?”
“How long have you been playing?”
“Not too long.” He looks at his phone and winces. “Okay maybe a while now.”
“So all damn day?” I say as I stare him down. He furrows his brow, holding up his hands defensively.
“Hey, I went for a run this morning. I even went down to the gym.” As if that makes up for not cleaning up after himself.
“So most of the day then.” I say.
His eyes slide to the side, so I know he’s bullshitting me.
“Whatever. Did you notice anything in apartment? Like maybe a horrific smell.”
He sniffs, then grimaces.
“It’s not that bad.”
“It smells like something died in here.” Is he for real? Half that smell is probably his damn feet.
“Yeah, it’s a little funky.”
I move to open the drapes and then the windows. The cool breeze is literally a breath of fresh air.
“Clean that shit up.” I say, wrinkling my nose in disgust and pointing to the dishes on the coffee table. I open the glass door to the patio as well, trying to get as much air in here as possible.
“How are you such a mess, dude? You’re like a giant man-child? What the hell?” My irritation is getting the best of me.
“You sound like Maddie.” he grumbles while picking up all his dirty dishes, sulking off like a reluctant teenager.
“Maybe she’s right. Maybe we do need to get our shit together.”
“Whatever. You’re being a dick.”
“Oh, so sorry for not wanting to live in a pig sty that smells like your fucking feet.”
He ignores me and takes the dishes to the kitchen, where he just dumps them in the sink, food still on the plates. Gross. He then has the audacity to head toward the hall. Oh no, my guy, you are not leaving me without cleaning up your mess.
“You are not leaving these for me, Walker. I will punch you in the nuts. Get your lazy ass back here.”
I point to the kitchen and say one word.
“Dishes.” No arguments. This is getting done.
He sighs, then moving at the pace of a sloth, heads toward the kitchen sink. I hold back a sarcastic retort as I turn away.
I take the trash out because I need a minute to cool down, or I’m going to throat punch my best friend. We have a daily trash valet service, so I leave the bag outside the door, hoping it doesn’t stink up the hallway.
I take a few calming breaths before I head back into the kitchen. Taking it out on Walker isn’t really fair. It’s not like we set up any expectations when he moved in. We never talked about what being roommates would look like, so it’s past time we discuss it.
“We need cleaning tunes.” He says as he hooks his phone up to the bluetooth speakers in my living room and cranks up some Linkin’ Park. We spend the next hour cleaning up the apartment and rocking out. When everything is clean and we’ve calmed down, we head for the couch to relax.
“How much of my fight with Maddie did you hear?” he asks me, proving he’s smarter than I give him credit for.
“Most of it.” I admit. “I was in the bathroom and you guys were pretty loud. How’d you know?”
“Yeah, you never use the word man-child.” We both chuckle. He’s not wrong.
