Roomie Wars Box Set

“Will there be any hot single ladies there?” I query, folding my arms in anticipation.

Zoey’s face quickly drops. Her eyes shift toward the mint-green painted wall, ignoring my presence. A moment later, she glances my way, then follows with a perky—albeit fake—smile. “Mia is one of five girls, so chances are, yes.”

I wink. Leaning in, I kiss her forehead. “You got yourself a date, Richards.”

Chapter Seven

Zoey

Sunday night blues—when a case of the Mondays is just around the corner.

After Drew left to go to work, I finally finished my book and am suffering from the worst book hangover in history. It’s like the life has been sucked out of me. I dreaded nearing the end when I knew the story would be all over. So, they got their happily ever after. Where’s mine? Three fucking days these characters have consumed me. People often commented on how invested I become in the books I read telling me often if I devoted this much time into my love life, I would be married with three kids by now.

People—meaning my mother.

She’s never understood my love of reading. At an early age, I would lock myself in my room and finish an entire Babysitter’s Club book in an hour, then bug my mom to take me back to the store to buy a

nother one. In the car ride to the store, she would complain about how I should be outside riding my bike like the rest of the girls my age.

The rest of the girls my age were hiding behind trees making out with boys, and competing over who had the biggest hickey. I thought that was gross until I turned fourteen. The world suddenly became a different place filled with cute boys and even cuter college men.

And sure, I do invest a lot of time into reading. Books have a way of transporting me to another world when my own’s so boring and mundane.

Yet, here I sit completely numb.

Happy but numb because I have no clue what to do now. Start a new book? Move on? This happens to me every time.

I even use social media to contact the author telling her how much I love her book, needing a pierced ‘Jerk’ in my life, and to hurry up and write her next book because I’m having massive withdrawals.

My eyes stare at the clock on the wall watching the hands tick past at what seems like a very slow pace. There’s nothing left to do except scroll through my iPad and play a game of online poker. Something I occasionally do when I was that bored. My disinterest in the game urges me to go all in and anger the rest of the online gamers. Apart from one guy, Derek Smith. He has the balls to ask me what I’m damn well wearing. When I respond with, “A red wig and a clown suit,” he suddenly goes offline.

Derek Smith doesn’t know what he’s missing.

A couple more games, then I retreat to YouTube watching episodes of Family Ties.

Michel J. Fox—what a heartthrob. After two episodes, I settle on watching Back to the Future until I remember how annoying Biff is, shutting down my iPad to refrain from swearing and possibly throwing it against the wall.

Bored and alone, I wander across the hall to see if my neighbor, Gigi, is home. I tap on the door, not surprised to hear the sounds of Gloria Gaynor’s I’ll Be There blasting through the small apartment. There’s no chance that Gigi will hear me with the music loud, so I grab the spare key on top of her porchlight and open the door. I yell out down the hall as she dances past and stops mid-step.

“Hi, doll!”

She doesn’t stop for long, dancing barefoot back into the living room.

Gigi lived in this apartment complex since before I moved in. She’s never revealed her age, but a couple of references here and there lead me to believe she’s well into her sixties. Having been married five times, Gigi is your original hopeless romantic. Much like Mia, she is a firm believer that fate will serve you your soulmate on a silver platter. Fate works in mysterious ways since Gigi lives alone and is currently single.

I was around to meet Husband Number Five, but unfortunately, he died of a stroke a few years back. Since then, Gigi says she’s done with marriage, and instead, adopts stray cats. Patti, Diana, and Gloria have moved in, and Gigi has never been happier.

One pussy away from turning into a crazy cat lady.

Gigi loves to read, much like me. Her apartment is scattered with several bookcases housing everything from classic novels to trashy Hollywood romances. She reads at lightning speed, and if ever I need something new, she will recommend something from her ever-growing library.

In her spare time, she enjoys writing—mainly poetry. During the week, she works at the local thrift store. That sums Gigi up in a nutshell. That, and she’s a complete nutcase. But a lovable nutcase.

I take a seat inside her living room making myself comfortable on the soft, brown leather sofa. Every time I sit on it, I inhale the scent of the worn leather until Patti smothers me, jumping on my lap and purring. She’s such an attention whore, climbing on top of me whenever she gets the chance.

Gigi turns the music down and offers me a drink. A Long Island Iced Tea because she likes to get buzzed on Sunday night.

She prances in front of me, placing the tea on the table beside the sofa. “Why the sad face, doll?”