Bad Girl (Alphahole Roommates 3)

He leads me through the front door of the building, through the lobby, then he unlocks an inner door by the intercoms and then we head down the hall of the main floor.

It’s an older building, but it’s clean and seems in good shape. On the door of apartment 101, there’s a sign that says “Off Duty on Sundays” with a number to call for emergencies.

He turns the doorknob, and we enter a large family room filled with people, some sitting on the extra-big c-shaped couch, some standing, and some sitting on the floor.

They all gasp and / or make noise while the sitting people rise and I’m reminded of the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding as they head toward us.

The first person to get to me is a lady that must be in her late thirties or early-forties, that has to be his aunt with Down Syndrome.

She claps her hands and asks, “Can I touch your hair? It’s so pretty. You have so many tattoos for a girl! I never saw a girl with so many tattoos before.”

“Ivana, say hello and then let’s allow Ally to meet everyone,” Ana says.

“Hello!” Ivana says enthusiastically.

“Hi Ivana,” I greet and then Ivana throws her arms around me for a hug.

“Hi Ally. Jude.” Ana kisses Jude’s cheek and hugs me too, which startles me at first but feels kinda nice. “Put that in the kitchen, I’ll make the introductions.”

I see two young men that I can tell immediately are Jude’s brothers. They were on the floor with game controllers but they’ve both put them down and are with everyone else in what feels like a receiving line. One is a teenager with long, curly hair. He’s tall and lanky, hasn’t filled in yet. The other is probably just a couple years older than the younger one with a buzz cut and full sleeves and a neck covered in tatts. He’s also built like he spends lots of time at the gym.

The older one says. “Hey, I’m Luka. Nice one, brat.” He gives me a hug.

“Brat?” I ask.

“Not you, my brother. Brat. It means brother.”

“Believe me, she’s a brat, too,” Jude says from behind me. “The other kind.”

“The fun kind?” Luka asks huskily. “Niiiice. And awesome cupcakes, babe,” he adds, smelling my neck.

“Easy now,” Jude warns.

Luka laughs softly and backs up.

He’s a cutie. Too young, probably twenty-two or three, but definitely a cutie.

The other sibling of Jude’s grabs my hand. “Roman. Hey. How are you? Bring more cupcakes?” He then hugs me as well.

“Hi,” my voice comes out squeaky. I clear my throat. “Not today. I brought banana chocolate chip pancakes though. I made too many this morning and your brother thought we should bring them.”

“Ooh,” Roman says and rubs his palms together.

“Where’s Julian?” Jude asks.

“Julian’s working for you. On a Sunday!” Baka says with accusation and then she gives me a nod. “Allison.”

“Just Ally,” I correct. “And hi. How are you?”

She looks at me shrewdly.

“Working?” Jude looks confused for a moment and then checks his phone and starts tapping at the screen.

“Ally, this is Prabaka Sanja Novak, Jude’s great grandmother on his father’s side,” Ana says.

A little old lady with a black kerchief on her head sits on the couch and smiles at me. She’s ancient and has no teeth.

“Hello,” I say.

She holds her hands out, so I move that way, take them and she jiggles them with a big smile.

“Hello,” she says.

“Ally brought chocolate chip and banana pancakes,” Jude says loudly, leaning over and kissing her cheek. She taps his cheek with affection. “Ooh. I’d like to try those. I liked the orange little cakes from yesterday. Was that you?”

“It was,” I say.

“Was it yesterday?”

“It was yesterday, but we are making food,” Baka says loudly. “Ana is doing a roast beef.”

“I know that,” Jude replies. “There’s just enough there for everyone to have a taste.”

“I’m trying one now,” Luka announces and walks through the L-shaped living/dining room space to the galley style kitchen that has two entrances, one near the front door and the other on the other side of the dining area.

“You forgot me, Ana,” Ivana says.

“No, you said hello.”

“They talked longer.”

“I was teaching you patience. This is Aunt Ivana,” Ana says, smiling.

“I like your hair,” she tells me again with a big smile. “And all your tattoos.”

“Thank you so much,” I reply.

“I wish I could have pink hair, too.”

She touches my hair gently before she pulls at her shoulder length salt and pepper hair (mostly salt) and looks at the ends with a frown.

“Of course you can. You can have whatever color hair you want. I can do it for you,” I tell her.

The room goes quiet.

“When?” Aunt Ivana asks excitedly. “When can you make my hair pink?”

“Um…”

Shit. Oops. Have I made a blunder?

“Today,” Jude answers for me. “Ally will tell me what to get and I’ll go to the drugstore and get it.”