Page 2 of Rent: Paid in Full
He balls his T-shirt up and shoots it into the hamper in a corner on his side of the room without taking aim. It drops in with a softswish. He looks at me expectantly, lips bowed up in a smirk. I can’t tell if he’s expecting praise for his dunking skills or for his abs, but either way, he’s clenching so hard I’m surprised he hasn’t burst a blood vessel.
I ignore him completely.
Not my monkey, not my circus, and all that.
He pushes his sweatpants down and repeats the performance with more aplomb. I look pointedly at the door of the bathroom and use every ounce of my telepathic powers to scream,Get changed in the bathroom with the door closed, you dick!
My telepathy must be on the blink because he doesn’t catch my drift. Miller turns and preens at his warped reflection in the shiny silver surface of the kettle. He tilts his head in satisfaction, then reaches back leisurely and untucks his boxer briefs from the crack of his ass.
“So, what do you say?” he says.
“‘Bout what?”
He smiles patiently. “Coming out tonight.”
“Nah, can’t, thanks.”
“How come?”
“‘Cause I’ve got to work, is how come.” I use a little more heat than I mean to, but fortunately, it goes over his head.
“Well, swing by when you’re done if you want. We’ll be there.”
I smile thinly and grab my bag and notes, giving him a curt nod as I head out. A Friday night in the library seems like a small price to pay to avoid being trapped in a confined space with a naked, freshly showered Miller MacAvoy.
I wake in the early hours, the fist in my chest clenching tightly, squeezing the blood from all four quadrants of my heart at once. I sit bolt upright, pulse racing as I struggle for breath. I reach shakily for the glass of water I left on Miller’s desk and sip it slowly until the fist releases. I lean heavily against the wall, the icy coolness of the surface an unpleasant shock but not quite enough to snap me out of it fully.
Numbers swim in my vision. Tuition fees. Housing. A ridiculous quote for engine repair for my truck. A reminder from the dentist for an appointment I can’t see myself being able to afford any time before I turn forty. I didn’t get a shift at Pepe’s tonight, and it’s five days until I get paid. My bank balance currently stands at forty-one dollars and thirty-three cents.
Forty-one dollars
Thirty-three cents
Forty-one dollars
Thirty-three cents
I try to breathe through it, but no matter what, I can’t make the numbers add up. I can’t because they don’t. I’m flat fucking broke, racking up more debt every second I’m here. My breath quickens, shortening into harsh, uneven gasps as I start adding up what I’ll owe by the time I get my degree.
The fist finds me again. My rib cage screams from the intrusion. I feel hot and sweaty, and a high-pitched buzz threatens to fry my brain.
There’s a scratch of metal on metal. A key slides into the lock. I glance at the door and throw myself back down on my bed, pulling up my covers and turning onto my side so I’m facing the wall. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe.
A crack of light slices into the darkness. I turn my face and try to pretend I’m asleep. The only thing worse than feeling like this is having someone like Miller MacAvoy know about it.
I think that might actually kill me.
“Nah,” he murmurs. “Told you, you can’t come in… Why? ‘Cause my roommate’s new.” I hear a smug smirk in his voice. “Don’t want to traumatize the poor guy on his first day.” The sliver of light widens. “I’ll see you around, though, okay?”
A feminine voice makes soft, unhappy sounds but begrudgingly concedes. The door closes and I hear him taking his shoes off. The bathroom door opens and closes. A tap runs and is switched off a couple of times as I lie in my bed, trying to imagine a world in which I’d turn down a girl who wanted sex. I come up with nothing. Nada. Not one single thing.
I can’t even remember what it feels like to be with a woman at this point. If I’m not studying, I’m working, and if I’m not working, I’m trying to save money. I tell you, hooking up when you’re socially awkward and can’t afford jack isn’t as easy as you’d think it would be. I’m touch starved to dangerous levels, and yeah, right now, I’m jealous. I admit it.
Miller’s life isn’t as perfect as it looks from the outside. Moneyed golden boy worshipped by everyone—up close and personal, it’s much better. A man in his early twenties turning down sex with a consenting coed? It’s unheard of. The fucker.
The crack of light outlining the bathroom door goes black, and Miller stumbles to his bed in the dark, undressing as he moves. There’s a soft sigh of fabric hitting the floor as he drops his T-shirt. A metallic clank of zippers and belt buckles as his jeans follow suit, and a second later, he gets into his bed. Hesighs in contentment, and before long, his breathing lengthens and slows. He falls asleep quickly. Not a care in the world, I suppose.
Meanwhile, I count the hours until I have to be up for work.