I’m about to unlock the door to my apartment when my roommate—red faced, wild haired— comes flying out the door and slams it shut behind her.
“Hey! What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be home for another hour,” Amanda says, pressing her entire body against the door. Even though it’s blistering hot outside, and even though we don’t have AC, she’s wearing her painting clothes: sweat pants and a long shirt with the sleeves rolled past the elbows. Every window of our apartment is open, and I imagine that’s the only thing keeping her from collapsing of heat stroke.
“My class was cancelled,” I say. “But my teacher decided that instead of emailing us, she’d just put a note on the door, so I just walked twenty minutes to campus for nothing.”
“Oh man, that sucks. Good exercise though, right? Gotta get ready for bathing suit season, you know? I’ve been doing my crunches all day. Not doing anything else, just the crunches.” Her eyes are darting between both of mine, and she’s giving me a creepy toothless grin.
“Right.” I try and sidestep her towards the door, but she pushes me back.
“Whoa there! Where’re you going? I was just about to get some ice cream. Why don’t you come with me?”
“No, I’m okay, I don’t have money. I think I’ll just—”
“I’ll pay for you!”
“I really just want to lie down. I’m pretty beat. Thanks, though.”
“What? Lame! We’re getting you some ice cream.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder and starts dragging me down the street. I duck out of her embrace and turn back towards the apartment, but she shoves past me and retakes her post in front of the door.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you,” she says. “The craziest thing happened to me today.”
“What is your problem?” I say, unable to hold back my irritation.
“So I’m sitting in my marketing class, right? In my usual seat. And I feel this tap on my shoulder—”
“That’s co—”
“And I turn around and who do I see?”
“I don’t—”
“It’s Greg! Of all people!
“Wow. So fascinating.”
“So then he says—”
“Shut up!” I shriek. “Dear God, shut up. Can’t you take a hint? I don’t care. The last thing I want to do after seven hours of work and classes is listen to you drone on and on about absolutely nothing. But I usually do. In fact, I always do. Day after day, I sit and listen to your incessant babbling about… about… I don’t even know what! But not today. I can’t deal with you today. So move.” I push past her and walk into my apartment, only to find it full of slack-jawed people wearing pointy party hats. Neon balloons float above their heads. Behind them a hand-painted banner reads Happy Birthday Becca. I turn around and stare at Amanda still standing on the stoop. She stares back.
“Surprise.”
Realistic Fiction