Roomie Wars Box Set

I glance at my watch. It’s only quarter past eleven.

“Hmm,” she murmurs.

“Do you know where she is? I mean, in all honesty, Gigi, she’s been acting weird lately.”

“I’m not sure where she went,” she casually speaks. “Libra women can be a little indecisive at times.”

“How is that related to her acting weird?”

“She’s at a point in her life where transition is natural, yet for a Libra woman, that can be quite a monumental moment.”

“What transition are you talking about? It’s not like she’s thirteen and hitting puberty,” I joke.

“Just give her time to make decisions and process her thoughts.”

This conversation is confusing me. Horoscopes confuse me. I studied medicine, not astrology. “I’ve got no clue what went down last night. I’ll never drink again,” I moan, seeking sympathy for my awful behavior.

“That’s what you young folk always say.” She laughs, handing me some herbal tablets that are supposed to rid you of a hangover. No harm in trying. I take them from her and swallow them whole, thanking her when I’m done.

“I didn’t do anything stupid… did I?”

“I think it’s best you talk to Zoey. Maybe you both need to clear the air.”

“There’s unclear air between us?” I worry out loud.

Gigi pats my shoulder, then picks up a crystal from the table and squeezes it tightly, closing her eyes. She had a habit of doing this, and awkwardly, I stand there waiting like some pathetic fool.

“Drew, I sense this aura around you. The uncertainty. Just wait until she comes home.”

I leave the conversation at that. It makes no sense to me whatsoever, and I’m not going to waste my time solving the riddle. I love Gigi, but boy oh boy, she has a few screws loose.

***

My gym workout is exactly what I need, and it took the edge off my hangover. Isaac and Rob are here, and so I chat for a bit, Rob still worried about Zoey. I tell him she’s fine but a little shaken up, so best not to call her.

Deceitful, it’s the only way to describe yourself right now. It’s not like I could stop men from coming into her life, or can I? My head hurts thinking about it, and if only for today I’ve pushed away another one of her interests, then my job is done.

I’m due for a late shift tonight, and when I arrive back at the apartment there’s still no Zoey. It starts to worry me a little, so I decide to send her a quick text.

Drew: I hope you’re not avoiding me. Where are you?

She never responds and a couple of hours later, she casually strolls through the front door carrying some shopping bags. As I look at the logos printed on the front, I see a popular shoe store. Women. Then, behind the white paper bag I see the familiar pink Victoria’s Secret bag. Oh. Don’t think about sexy lingerie now. I’ve had enough trouble trying to curb that boner all day long.

“There you are… Jesus, Zoey, you had me worried.” Even I can hear how distressed my voice is, yet Zoey seems unaffected.

&nbs

p; She places the keys down avoiding my gaze. “Why would you be worried? It’s still light out. Aren’t I allowed to go and do whatever I want on a Sunday?”

Her tone is off, and her refusal to look me in the eye warns me that maybe I’ve done or said something wrong yesterday.

How am I going to get this out of her without looking like a dickhead? Well, you are a dickhead. You punched Jess in the face even though he deserved it.

“It’s just… never mind. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

There’s that phrase again. The ‘I’m fine.’ When a woman says she’s fine, she’s never fine. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. I scurry behind following her to the bedroom and hold the door open before she shuts it.