Page 4 of Rent: Paid in Full
He smiles back, bigger and wider than the situation calls for, making me instantly regret it.
He curls up on the sofa, leaning against the far arm, and faces me. A profusion of long limbs and golden skin draped over marble, with nothing but a tiny scrap of royal blue covering him. His eyes travel up my body and face. He studies me wordlessly, watching me as if I’m a curiosity to him. A rarity. No, an oddity.
I shift uneasily in my bed, pulling the covers up a little higher even though, unlike him, I consider sleeping shorts and a T-shirt polite when sharing a room with a complete stranger. I think about telling him that it’s rude to stare, but honestly, I hate wasting my time. Absolutely hate it. Try to avoid it at all costs. I’m going to be down at Student Services the second they open at eight-thirty tomorrow. There’s no reason to think I could change him by then.
“So, what’s your story?” he says after a long silence that makes me uncomfortable but doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.
“Story? What story?”
Yeah, yeah, I admit it. My intelligence is unremarkable before the first kick of caffeine hits my blood stream.
“What’s your life story?” He says each word slowly and clearly as if speaking to a child.
Oh, please, can we not.
His gaze turns from weirdly intent to expectant.
“Oh, you know,” I say, “not much to tell. Just normal stuff. Was born. Went to school. Worked for a couple of years till I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.” Factually untrue. I still have no clue what I want to do with my life. The anxietyof falling behind, working a dead-end job while everyone else was progressing in their studies started getting to me, so when I turned twenty, I put a pin in social sciences and applied to the best schools I could think of, secure in the knowledge that the chance of me getting in anywhere was slim to none.
Trust me, no one was more surprised than me when I got in here.
“Parents?”
Seriously? Are we doing this?
“Yep, have two of them. Both blue-collar workers, always tired, always stressed about money, but nauseatingly happy together.”
“Must be nice,” he says wistfully.
Yeah, tired and stressed about money is nice, Miller. Real nice.
“Siblings?”
“A sister. Jenna. She’s five years older than me. Lives in Maine. Moved there after she graduated, so we don’t see her as much nowadays.”
“You get along with her?”
She’s the best person I know. My life fell apart when she left home. She’s only five foot four, but I always felt safe when she was around. I thought it was just a feeling. I had no idea how much she looked out for me until she left to study in Maine, and everything changed.
“Yeah.”
Something I can’t quite place passes across his face, narrowing his eyes and digging a tiny crease in his cheek near his mouth. “I always wanted a sibling.”
“Well, there it is.” I smile broadly—the buzz of caffeine making itself known and doing its damnedest to erode my filter. “We’ve finally found something Miller MacAvoy wants but doesn’t have.”
He looks at me strangely, eyes lidded and guarded. “There are lots of things I want but don’t have.”
“Yeah, right.” I reward him with a little chuckle. Even I’m willing to admit that was funny. “So, you’re an only child?”
“Technically, yeah, but I mean, it’s probably unlikely. If you met my dad, you’d understand. He’s one of those stereotypical workaholics. Always too busy for family and only too happy to throw money at people who become problems. I’ve always suspected he cheats.”
There’s no emotion in his voice whatsoever. It’s exactly the same as it was when he asked if I wanted coffee.
“How does that work for them?”
“Well”—a cavalier shoulder rises and falls—“they’re very unhappily married. Can’t stand each other, really.”
“Does she know he’s cheating on her?”