“Hey, Cass, sure, in here or out there?”
The choice was between the ceiling-mounted projector in her bedroom or the TV in our living room. Without a word, I chose the former and joined her in bed. Unlike her, I wiggled my body underneath her covers as she turned on the projector. In a short while, she was wirelessly mirroring her laptop’s screen on the white, bare wall in front of us.
As was routine by now, we used the extremely useful app on my phone to flip a coin. An app I’d downloaded when neither of us could produce a single penny. Heads meant we’d watch something ‘Certified Fresh,’ while tails meant we’d watch a cinematic flop. When Lincoln’s face didn’t appear, we went through a list of movies that were described as ‘garbage’ by the internet. We chose a psychological thriller and for almost two hours, we subjected our eyes and brains to ‘creative torture.’
Once the credits started rolling, I told Gray one of my film school projects was better than the shit-show we just finished. “I’m not saying it was any good… It was goddamn awful-still better though.”
“Can we watch it?”
My eyes widened. “You wanna watch my school stuff?” She nodded, yes, so I shook my head, no. “Uh-uh, no way.”
“Cass, please?”
“Nope, I don’t want you to see-”
“Look, as an art school dropout, I’m probably not gonna pick up on all your genius nuances or symbolisms,” she interrupted me. “But please?”
The dropout-thing was part of her own special brand of self-effacing humor, but it was also true. She didn’t complete her degree. But as proven by me, education didn’t guarantee success anyway… Also, one look at her graphic design portfolio would’ve proven how talented she was (she didn’t need a diploma). Whenever she was ‘in the zone,’ her well-used drawing tablet was like a portal that could see into a magical universe.
“Gray, I-”
“Please?” She repeated over and over. “Come on, I wanna know more about what goes on in that brilliant brain of yours.”
She wasn’t only buttering me up but also flashing me her hopeful smile. And though giving in meant going through a self-inflicted cringe-fest, I couldn’t say no. Doing so would’ve been like kicking a puppy. Her blue eyes were too bright, I didn’t want to extinguish their sparkle. Groaning in defeat, I retrieved an external hard drive from my room. One that held my amateur films from my student days. A lot of my work had sci-fi elements, which was the genre I’d always been most interested in. Like a full-length movie set either far, far in the future or deep, deep in outer space..? Producing something like that someday would be a dream come true.
Even if my skin was crawling while we were watching my now-outdated stuff… I had to admit that I found the constantly shifting expressions on Gray’s face so endearing. I couldn’t explain why, but watching her watch my work just made me feel good. Warm and fuzzy. After we ran out of videos, I broke the silence that’d ensued almost an hour and a half earlier. “What did you think?”
“I’m not sure how to say what I want to say.” She was looking at me so, so intently. “But I think…” Her words hung in the air for one second, two seconds. “No, fuck that, I know your movies are gonna play on silver screens all over the world someday!” For some reason, although I was still lying beside her, she was yelling. Her volume was loud, her energy was infectious. “Then I’m gonna tell everyone I know that I used to live with you here, in Apartment 202! But you’ll be a big-shot by then, so they’ll just think I’m a clout-chaser talking shit.”
“You can always show them our photos together.” I played along. “Oh and we have videos, too… You’ll be able to prove it, don’t worry.”
“But they’ll still think I’m exaggerating how close you and I used to be.”
Her words made me frown. This was going to sound ridiculously convoluted, but the idea of her referring to us in the past tense during a theoretical future conversation about our present-day selves made me sad. Yes, it was a completely made-up, totally imaginary scenario. But it was one wherein we didn’t end up keeping in touch, which was incredibly upsetting.
“Seriously, Cass, thank you so much for sharing your art with me.” She wrapped her arms around me. My eyes closed as I hugged her back.
For a number of reasons, I was struggling to string words together, so I stayed quiet and just enjoyed how I was feeling. I was worried that if I allowed anything to leave my mouth, it would cause appreciative tears to leave my eyes as well. She wasn’t aware of it, but her last statement inducted her into a very exclusive club… One that only a few of my closest friends belonged to, one that none of my relatives were included in.
It added her name to the very short list of people who’d ever referred to anything I made as ‘art.’
. . .
“I’m not ambidextrous, my thumbs can’t do that.”
After a relentless argument between me and Gray, I’d conceded and told her I’d give gaming one last chance. And predictably, things weren’t going well for me… I played old-school games on my phone, like ‘Tetris,’ ‘Bejeweled,’ etc. But none of those required as much skill or hand-eye coordination as my roommate’s favorite game did.
“What? I’m not ambidextrous either… They can.” Gray closed the distance between us on our dark blue couch. She moved my thumbs over the two joysticks herself. “See?”
After she began touching me, I froze up. She was leaning toward me in such a way that forced us to breathe the same air. She pulled back, our eyes locked. A quick flicker in her expression told me she realized how close our faces were. “Are you even listening?” She asked and I shook my head. “Alright, I give up. You win.”
The forfeiting statement came from her, but I had to be the one to pull away first. “Told you, I’m a lost cause.” I handed her back the controller. “I like watching you play though.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course,” I answered. “I always like hanging out with you.”
“Cool.”
Up until my eyelids got too heavy, we sat beside each other. Almost touching but not quite the whole time. We weren’t even talking… It was just a night she spent enjoying something she loved to do-a night I spent enjoying being around her.
. . .
As long as I had the time, meal-prep was something I preferred to do. Not only did it help me budget better, but I also enjoyed cooking… Although my sights had always been set on following in my dad’s footsteps, I’d picked up and retained enough residual knowledge from my mom to make decent meals.
Gray, conversely, had only two responses to hunger: find snacks or use food delivery apps. I’d been living with her for a bit over three months now, but I was still perplexed by how slim and lithe she was despite the ridiculous amount of sugar and carbs she consumed. Yes, like me, she worked out a lot, too, but I doubted she’d ever read a nutrition label. For her, a heaping spoonful of hazelnut spread straight from the jar was a fantastic idea… She was living evidence that ‘unhealthy meatless diets’ existed.
Anyway, I figured that since I was already making a week’s worth of re-heatable, home-cooked meals for myself… Might as well just double-up everything, so she’d have better food options as well. Yeah, all the dishes had to be vegetarian-friendly, so I had to learn a bunch of new YouTube recipes and also spend more on groceries. But it was going to be healthier for me, too. More importantly though, I was going the extra mile for Gray. Meaning, I didn’t mind the additional effort, time or work I had to put in.
I just saw it as a labor of love-something done for pleasure, not for recognition nor reward.
. . .
I picked up the second of the two cameras I’d set up then entered my bedroom. I checked the time before berating myself for cutting it way too close. Any minute now, Gray would be arriving home. After placing the last of my recording equipment away, I took off the cute (but impractical) bralette I was wearing. I put on a loose shirt, but I didn’t bother with bottoms since my top was long. I brewed some ‘bedtime tea’ in the kitchen to help me wind down. Two minutes after I sat on the couch with my drink, the front door opened. For real, if there’d been even one setback earlier, tonight would’ve been the night my secret stopped being a secret.
“Hi!” I greeted Gray and her girlfriend. Wearing a classic little black dress, a lot of my roommate’s tattoos were out tonight. Her colorful arm was wrapped around the waist of the slightly taller woman beside her. “How’s your night going, guys?”
My question was polite but pointless. They’d obviously been drinking a lot… Their cheeks were tinted pink, their eyes were bloodshot. Based on the unopened bottle of whiskey Gray was holding, it seemed the party wasn’t over. Since I wasn’t working the next day, I accepted the tipsy couple’s invite to hang out with them.
Objectively speaking, Gray was a ten. It made sense for her to date someone who was good-looking, too. Tonight, her blond-haired girlfriend was in an emerald-colored top and tight skirt. Undoubtedly, she was attractive. In my (unsolicited) opinion, not attractive as my roommate though. But to be fair, that bar was set too high. I couldn’t take it against her.
Gray’s girlfriend and I never interacted beyond hello-s / how are you-s, so I was taken aback when she plopped down right beside me. Close enough for our thighs to touch. My roommate had claimed the patchwork armchair, but there were still many other free seats around us. We didn’t need to be glued to each other.