Roomie Wars Box Set
There are a few benches where some people sit with their dogs and a small playground for children which is deserted. Beside the water fountain, Mia is already stretching her limbs. I stroll over and wave hello.
“Hey, Zoey, nice getup,” she laughs.
“Can you see my camel toe?”
“I’m trying not to.” She cringes. “So, what the hell is going on with you?”
I motion for her to start walking alongside me as I tell her the events of the past twenty-four hours, minus the kiss with Drew. If she knew, she would make it a bigger deal than what it was, and considering it meant absolutely nothing, the topic is officially closed, buried beneath six feet of dirt and a pile of crap.
Mia is that annoying friend who believes in finding soulmates and leaving things up to fate. The one person who updates her social media with inspirational posts on love to the point it becomes nauseating. She’s always on my back about finding true love, similar to what she has with our IT geek, Troy. Granted, Troy is a nice guy. He doesn’t exactly have lines of women knocking on his door, and considering they work with each other eight hours each day, five days a week, it was bound to happen.
“Shit, Zoey, I’m so sorry. You should have called me. I could have—”
“Nothing, Mia,” I interrupt. “It’s fine now. Drew stayed with me all day, and I’m fine.”
“But you almost died.”
“Almost,” I reiterate. “But I didn’t.”
“You’re so lucky Drew was there. It’s like he’s your guardian angel or something.”
I stop mid-step following with a loose laugh. “Guardian angel? He’s my roomie. Trust me, Drew ain’t no angel.”
Mia doesn’t appear offended, and instead, nudges me along. We walk a couple more blocks until we reach a popular cafe that serves the best Nutella donut shakes, a new fad rocking the foodie groups. It takes every part of me to resist the urge and settle for a green tea. It also doesn’t help when everyone else orders them, the shakes sitting deliciously on their tables as they take selfies.
Genius doesn’t even describe the person who thought,
‘Hey, let’s shove a straw in the middle of a donut and plonk it on top of a milkshake made of Nutella.’
But I need willpower.
Strength.
Resistance.
We settle for a small table in the back and chat about Mia’s birthday, which happens to fall the day before her upcoming wedding.
“Thirty is so old,” she moans.
“No, it’s not. It’s the new twenties. I read that online somewhere.”
“What I would give to be twenty-one again.”
“You and me both. I would have eaten less pizza.” I sigh, sinking into my chair. The hard plastic back makes it difficult to get comfortable. “Then I wouldn’t have camel toe.”
“I would have taken that junior art position I was offered in France.” Mia sits back, stirring her tea before taking a sip. Her hair is cut just above her shoulders and almost falls into her cup. Frustrated, she grabs a hair tie from around her wrist and pulls it back.
“I wouldn’t have stayed so long with my ex. I would be able to afford the deposit on the block of land I wanted to buy near the beach if I didn’t blow it all on him.”
“Ouch.” She winces. “That’s gotta hurt.”
“Still paying the price.”
We sit in silence for a moment, and I get to thinking about how easily I allowed that relationship to destroy everything I worked so hard for. I came from a united family—Mom and Dad were still married. I didn’t have a fucked-up childhood or ‘man issues’ that would lead me down the wrong path. For a long time prior to Jess, I was independent. Men were great to have around, but I never truly grasped how women lost their identities all because of one man who had entered their life. From the moment I met Jess—at the backyard party of a mutual friend—something about me changed. He had this hold over me. You could say I was obsessed, and my need to please him was greater than I thought I was capable of.
“So, I need your RSVP for the wedding,” Mia reminds me.
“Well duh… of course, I’m going.”