A tiny part of Libby had even hoped Jean would have an idea of how to fix this. Or, barring that, they could drown their sorrows together.
“I think we’ve said enough for today.”
If you didn’t know better, it might have sounded like a mature and reasonable response. But Libby was deeply familiar with her roommate’s coping skills, and those words were not part of Jean’s emotional vocabulary. The thought flashed through her mind that Jean was glad to be getting out of there. She might even have picked a fight so she’d have an excuse to bail.
“Must be nice,” Libby said tightly. “To move on when you get bored. No skin in the game.”
“Must be nice to fall apart and let someone else worry about the bills.”
That got Libby right in the guilt gland. “I’ll call around andsee if we can pick up some shifts this weekend.” Since there would be no fancy grown-up salary swooping in at the eleventh hour to save them.
“I’m booked. At the resort.”
“Oh.” It wasn’t completely unprecedented; they didn’talwayswork the same gigs. Only most of the time.
Jean fiddled with the strap of her bag. “Maybe we could use a little space. It might be good for both of us, to not be so tied at the hip.”
It sounded like the worst idea in the world to Libby. Jean could pretend she was being practical, but it still felt like a punishment.You messed up, now I’m leaving.She must have known Libby would take it badly, because Jean kept her eyes on her phone.
“My ride’s here,” she announced, walking out before Libby could say another word.
Libby tried to smooth the crumpled page, but only succeeded in smearing peanut butter across the bottom half. Her aim had been better several glasses of vodka ago.
“I finally have time to try journaling. Check me out, looking on the bright side!” She tapped the pen against her lips. “Ow.” That part wasn’t going in the gratitude journal. Or whatever this was.
Thinking in full sentences was beyond her, so she switched to making a list. To get the juices flowing.
My best friend hates me.
Didn’t get the job.
Said goodbye to best, hottest, most wonderful man—that didn’t really capture the scale of her loss. She scribbled it out.
Blew chance at first real relationship and will never know love. And I don’t even have a cat.
Okay, so it was more of a Bitch List. That felt on brand for her new life.
A roach stuck its head out from under the refrigerator. Libby couldn’t muster the will to get up and crush it.
“Hey, little buddy. Don’t worry, I’m not coming for you. Why shouldn’t you live? You’re probably happier than I am. Got a family, I bet. Dreams for the future. Hope. You could be a VIP in Roach Town. Part of a great love story. Rocheo and Juliet. Who am I to judge?” She pointed at the roach with the vodka bottle, before pouring herself more.
“I’m not Lillibet, that’s for sure. Freaking Lillibet.” Forgetting her glass, she took a swig straight from the bottle. “She has a lot to answer for. You know what I’m saying?”
The roach sat quietly on her kitchen floor, antennae twitching.
“You’re a really good listener. Has anyone ever told you that?” She wiped her mouth on the neck of her T-shirt. “This is honestly more respect than I’ve gotten from some humans who were supposed to be on my side. And I probably murdered your entire family, so that’s extra noble, you know? It shows real, um, generosity of spirit. And like moral fiber and stuff. Unlike yours truly.”
Picking up her phone, she snapped a picture of her new friend. Possibly also her only friend. “I’m not going to lie, pal. I still find you intensely unpleasant to look at.” Libby made a retching sound in the back of her throat. “I think it’s the legs. But also the body, with the sections. And your face. But that’s a me problem. I’m going to work on it. Not judging people by their appearance. Or insects. Live and let live. Laugh, live, love. I don’t know what the roach version would be. Scurry, scatter, survive.”
Libby poured herself more vodka to go with this deep thought. “Roaches probably don’t put up with that kind of BS.Say what you mean, Sally. Quit talking around the issue! Are we infesting this place or what?That’s why you’re going to take overthe world while humans stab each other in the back and then gopffft.” She blew a raspberry.
The roach was stoic.Take all the time you need,he seemed to be saying.
“Maybe words are the problem? We rely too much on all the blah blah blah when we could just rub our legs together.” Libby tried to slide one calf over the other in the way she imagined roaches made tiny roach sounds, but only succeeded in losing her balance. Lying on her back with her legs splayed at an awkward angle, she grabbed her camera with an ironic squeal. “Selfie!”
The only thing missing was that yellow tape they used to outline corpses on TV.
“I know I’ve been talking your ear off—or your little antenna thingies—but if I could ask one favor. Please don’t crawl on me.” Pleading with him seemed easier than getting up. “You probably think I’ve hit rock bottom over here, but that would push me over the edge. A roach in my hair. Or up my nose. Anywhere above the shoulders. What is the opposite of self-care? I never really thought about it until now, but I think that would qualify.”
