My new housemate raises a leg to scratch his backside as he turns his attention to whatever show he’s watching. This entire mess is all thanks to the plastic floozy in the window downstairs.
“I’m living with a man I don’t know,” I murmur, mostly to myself. Then louder to him, “Did you say your name’s Spider? Like the bug?”
His fork stops mid-air. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Priya answers for him, her voice sharp. “This is Spider.”
I inhale deeply. I would have preferred an infestation of the actual arachnids over this slob. At least they’re tidy.
“How long have you been living here, Spider?” I resent the stupid nickname as soon as it leaves my mouth. How would someone acquire that nickname? Does he have a talent for scaling walls or something?
He sets the saucepan down. “Woman, you gone full psycho?” He shakes his head, muttering, “Half a year.”
“Uh-huh. And what do you do?” Judging from the state of the place, he’s not a professional de-clutterer.
“I’m a life drawing model.”
My eyes widen. That’s a job? “Please don’t tell me you do that here!”
“Nah. I go to art studios around the city.”
I breathe a small sigh of relief. Small mercies. “Why are you eating out of my saucepan?”
He shrugs. “It’s just easier, isn’t it?”
“But that’s my special saucepan for making jam.”
Suppressing the urge to deep clean the whole apartment, including the strange Spider man, I whimper and decide it’ll be a task for future Lucy.
I look at Priya, who’s already halfway to my bedroom with my bag.
“Let’s take you to your bedroom, Luce.”
“Okay,” I squeak.
“Hey,” Spider calls after us. “Don’t forget you agreed to lower the rent.”
“Give me one item of good news, I beg you,” I moan as the girls bundle me into my bedroom. “Do I need to check if there are any dead bodies in the bath?”
I flop onto the bed, relieved that my bedroom looks the same.
“Take some calming breaths,” Libby coaxes, settling beside me. “We could draw you a nice warm bath with some aromatherapy salts. And you won’t be sharing it with any dead bodies.”
“Thanks, Lib, that’s sweet. But I need something stronger than aromatic bubbles right now.”
I scan the room, praying for a memory to spark. Zeroing in on my bedside table, I wrench open the drawer.
“Comics?” Priya smirks, eyeing the stash in the drawer. “That’s what you keep in your nightstand? I’d die if you saw what’s in mine.”
“Yeah, no, thank you for that offer.” I rummage through the top stack of comics. If she looks closer, she’ll see that some of them are erotic graphic novels-my version of porn. And then, there’s the mundane: bills, mortgage documents…
I shut the drawer with a loud bang and hoist myself up, giving my room another once-over. Hunting for clues. Anything.
Exasperated, I throw open the wardrobe doors and- Woah. I’m now the proud owner of new jeans, sexy shirts, and a killer little black dress.
“Do I… actually wear this?” I question, holding up the dress.
Priya grins. “You wanted to switch things up a bit.”
I hum in approval, my fingers brushing over the array of hangers until I stumble upon some shiny black material.
“What the hell’s this?” My jaw drops as I unveil a skintight blue-and-gold leotard. It would look perfectly at home at Comic Con if it weren’t for the gaping holes at both boobs and, oh my god, the crotch. It seems I’ve taken cosplay to new levels.
I choke out a surprised, “Miss Nova,” to no one in particular.
“Since when did Miss Nova get a sexy makeover?” Priya smirks. “Wouldn’t Superwoman or Wonder Woman be better for bedroom roleplay?”
“Miss Nova is a strong, sassy woman who doesn’t shy away from her sexuality,” I retort, sick of defending her. “And she can control light particles. She’s a classic superheroine role model!” I pause, taking in the racy outfit. “Although, I do have to wonder what possessed me to buy this.”
“It seems you don’t tell us everything, Luce,” Libby says. “You’re a dark, dirty horse.”
I don’t know what to make of that discovery.
Next up, the underwear drawer. To my surprise, I discover a treasure trove of raunchy lingerie mixed in with the sensible cotton that 26-year-old Lucy wore. Nice.
I grin, touching the silky material. Then my eyes bulge as I lift a pair of sexy black men’s briefs. I swivel to the girls, holding them up. “Whose are these?”
And why isn’t the owner of these contacting me? Why isn’t he worried about me?
Priya raises an eyebrow while Libby shrugs. “Maybe Spider mixed his laundry with yours?”
I inspect the undies, eyes narrowed. Designer. Sexy as hell. Definitely not Spider’s.
“If I have a boyfriend, why hasn’t he made his grand appearance yet?”
Priya shuffles uneasily, eyeing Libby. “Maybe it’s for the best that you’ve forgotten about this guy. I don’t think it ended well. You were a bit… sad.”
Sad hangs in the air, giving me a sense of foreboding. Exactly how sad are we talking? Sad as in Cried into my wine for a week or sad as in Considered swan diving the stairs of the Platinum Plaza Hotel?
Priya and Libby blink at me, offering zero answers, and all I want to do is scream until my lungs give out.
Turns out, I’m learning a lot today.
One: my home is now an episode of Roommates from Hell.
Two: my sex life took an interesting turn during my memory sabbatical.
And three: whoever this mystery man is, the one who had me all weepy, he’s got some seriously hot briefs.
Lucy
My thoughts are playing a maddening game of hide-and-seek, but I’m going to hunt those elusive little fuckers down.
And where better to start than the office, where I spend most of my days?
Three days of house arrest with Spider was enough. The less said about the rogue toenail clippings lurking in the bathroom, the better.
Every time I step foot into my apartment, Roxy, the life-sized, inflatable reminder of my new life, greets me. Roxy is the name on her packaging.