Roommates Shelby, David, and Elliot have always gotten along fabulously, but lately all of those annoying little quirks are rubbing nerves raw. Once Shelby commits the mother of all bad-roommate infractions, the three decide it’s time to come up with a solution or call it quits. Now there are rules and there are consequences for breaking those rules. On the day David tells Shelby that her consequence is to play dress up and scrub the kitchen floor, she’s had enough – but David is just getting started. What started off as a silly way to keep each other in line quickly turns into a game to see how far David and Shelby can push each other behind Elliot’s back. They can’t keep their dirty little secrets from Elliot forever, and when he finds out what’s been going on under his nose, he has a few consequences of his own.
Release date:
April 10, 2014
Publisher:
Headline
Print pages:
59
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No, it’s not what you think. This isn’t some “one time I was so drunk” story. It could very well have started with shampoo or coffee or something equally insignificant. It just so happened that it was a bottle of scotch.
It was Friday night. As a rule, I got the house to myself on Friday night. My roommates would go together or go their separate ways to drink or fuck or whatever, and I would have friends over for drinks. I loathed bars and pubs, and so the living room in our Wilder Street rental would become the hub of my social life.
On that particular night, about an hour after the liquor stores closed, someone elbowed the bottle of rum off the end table. It smashed and the liquid sloshed everywhere. Fortunately, we were all still sober enough to clean it up without cutting open any major arteries, but in the end we were left with no liquor save for a bottle of Irish cream I used for baking.
‘I’ll just check upstairs,’ I said. I hated going into either David or Elliot’s private space, but the only other option was to go out to the clubs. I knew one of my roommates probably had a bottle of something hidden away for special occasions.
In David’s closet, stuffed in a winter boot, I found a bottle of scotch.
There was nothing special about the bottle. I didn’t notice that it was 30 years old. Why would I? Scotch was scotch. We could use this as a mix, and I could replace it in the morning. I never would have taken it if I had known it cost what it did, and more importantly why David had such an expensive bottle of booze in his closet.
I found out at about noon the next day. I was still sleeping it off in my snug bed when the shouting woke me up. I was about to get up and tell them to keep their video game racket down when David stormed into my bedroom. He had the boot in one hand and the empty bottle in the other.
He shook the bottle and the boot at me. ‘Did you take it from my closet?’
I rubbed my dark, purple-streaked hair out of my eyes and scowled. ‘Yeah, sorry, I was desperate. As soon as I get some coffee in me I’ll run out and replace it.’
‘You’ll replace –’ David stopped forming words and just started sputtering. He managed to collect himself and glared at me, lips white and pressed together. After a moment of seething, he held up the bottle. ‘Do you know what this is? Or was?’
‘Delicious?’
I looked past the raging blond imbecile at the foot of my bed to Elliot. It was his expression, hand over his mouth so he looked like he was all beard, that alerted me that this was more than just your average invasion of privacy. This was a fuck-up, and it was a grand one.
David’s words hissed through his clenched teeth. ‘This was 36 years old. I bought it for my father’s retirement. It cost a thousand dollars.’
‘Oh. Fuck.’
David looked like he wanted to murder me. I wanted to throw the blanket over my head and sink into the mattress to whatever magical other world existed on the other side.
‘Oh fuck is right. Oh fuck is beyond right.’
‘I’ll pay you back.’
‘How?’
‘I have savings.’
‘How much?’
Christ, why did I moan about my finances to my roommates? David knew I only had a few hundred dollars in my account. This is why I didn’t bother to respond.
He sputtered again, and turned to Elliot, who just shrugged. I suspect Elliot was just glad it wasn’t him who had done the fuck-up.
‘Really, David, I’ll pay you back. It’ll just take me some time.’
‘And what am I supposed to do for Pop’s gift now, huh? I took all those extra shifts so I could afford to buy this.’
‘Hey, man,’ Elliot said, stepping forward. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it and she can pay me back.’
‘That’s not the point!’
The boot flew across the room and bounced off my closet door, leaving a black mark on the wood. I cowered back, worried that he’d throw the bottle next, but Elliot got hold of him. He grasped David by the shoulders and led him out the door.
Moments later, I heard the shouting rise up from downstairs. I threw the blanket over my head but didn’t descend into a magical no-fuck-up world. I just burst into tears.
There I remained, sniffling into my pillow. The whole thing was soaked by the time I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The shouting had stopped and Elliot’s knock was gentle. I didn’t respond, and after calling my name he pushed the door open.
‘You want to come downstairs?’
‘No.’
‘Shelby, we really need to talk things out.’
‘No, we don’t. David. . .
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