“Hey, Jessa,” I say, smiling wide. She’s got aspunky personality, and sometimes I feel like she’s my sister, even though we haven’t known each other for very long. As an only child, I always hoped for siblings and the typical family atmosphere.
“Laney! I was going to talk to you before you left the building, but the meeting I was in went long. What are you doing tonight?”
I glance out the window of the train and try to think of anything I had planned already. Mostly, I’m hoping my leftovers from last night’s dinner aren’t gone.
“Just prepping for the game tomorrow. Did I forget something?” I ask, a pit forming in my stomach. I hate it when I forget anything, especially work things.
“Oh no, sorry. We’re trying to come up with some marketing ideas for the lacrosse club. Clark is hoping to do something fun for the fans to open the season, and I feel you’d have some good ideas we can use since you’ve been with other clubs. Would you be willing to come and brainstorm with us?”
“I’m not the best with marketing,” I say, laughing a bit. I struggle with talking myself up, so interviewing for jobs is always hit-and-miss. Planning ideas for a party are also on my not-great-at list.
“Well, I need another woman’s opinion. These boys would be fine with telling everyone it’s a potluck, and then it would be a mess.” She chucklesand I laugh. I’m still trying to remember the players for the hockey team, and I haven’t met any of the lacrosse club, but I can picture what she means.
“I’m on the train right now. But I can always get off and head back into the city. I’m not sure how to get to your house though.” I could probably take an Uber, but those things cost way more than my weekly allotment for transportation right now. I have a car, but it needs some TLC and money to get it running again, which is why I rely on public transit.
“We can come get you. Send me your address, and we’ll drive over soon. I’m leaving the office in about twenty minutes and then however long it takes to get to your place.”
I nod, still unsure about the whole thing. I’ve hung out with Jessa twice at work things, but I didn’t think we were close enough to warrant doing stuff outside of that. Then again, it almost sounds more work related if it involves the sports teams we cover.
It beats sitting in the apartment most of the night, though. And if I don’t have to battle the train again, that’s even better.
I get off and walk the six blocks to my apartment, wishing I’d brought my second pair of shoes. The kitty heels I wore to work today aren’t ideal for walking this distance.
Opening the door to my apartment, I wrinkle my nose at the smell.
What is that?
I check the garbage can first and then the fridge, and while those both stink, they aren’t the dead smell I’m detecting.
Did it stink this morning? Or was I nose-blind?
The sink has only a couple of dishes since I washed them all last night. I don’t have a ton of time to check for any festering smells if I’m going to change before Jessa gets here.
Is this a more formally-attired event? Or can I get comfortable?
I’d love nothing more than to wear a pair of sweats right now, but I’ll probably opt for joggers. Maybe it will help channel the warmer temperatures, so we can have at least a week of spring before the blazing summer heat kicks in.
I change, grabbing a hair tie to pull my hair back. Once I’ve got everything I need, I walk down the hallway, and the smell hits me in the face. I gag, trying to decide if it’s even worth it to investigate further. There’s not much in my stomach since I haven’t eaten for several hours, but I don’t want to be cleaning up vomit.
Am I excited to be invited out? Way more than I should be. Most of my friends from high school are married or moved away, and I’ve only been here two weeks, so this feels like progress, even if it’s just a meetingabout balloons.
Standing in front of my roommate’s door, the smell is like a combination of rotten food and industrial strength cleaner, two things that should ordinarily cancel each other out.
I knock once and then again. “Chandie?” I call out.
There’s no sound from the other side of the door, so I turn the handle, pushing the door open a crack.
It’s dimly lit inside with the curtains drawn, but I scan the room for any sign of life. And then my eyes search the floor, my body freezing when I see the silhouette of what looks to be a sheet over a body.
This feels like a situation where I should slowly back away and let future-me deal with it. But let’s be honest, I’ll probably just be putting this on a mental loop for the foreseeable future.
Again the gagging sensation takes over, and I have to shut the door and run to the bathroom. I turn on the faucet and catch some water in my hands, pressing it against my face. It doesn’t erase the brain image of a body on the floor, but at least it’s pulling some of my focus to my nervous system.
Maybe I imagined something was there. It’s not like that smell can come from a mirage, though.
My shoes are on and tied within seconds. I grab everything I need for the night, still terrified of what I saw. What if Chandie is involved in a murder plotand I’m the next victim? Or the police think I’m in on it?
Easy there, Laney. No need to spiral now.
