Page 16 of Roommate
Roderick cringes on my behalf and hastily spreads cream cheese on the old bat’s bagel. Then finally, we’re rid of her.
“Sorry about the terrible penmanship,” Roderick whispers. “If my teacher ever showed up, she’d have plenty to say about that.”
I only grunt in response, wondering how it could be only ten in the morning. Four more hours of this? I don’t think I can take it. Mrs. DeAngelo was right, anyway. I can’t concentrate this morning to save my life. Roderick wipes down the counter, humming under his breath, and the rich sound climbs right under my skin and vibrates through my consciousness.
I glance at the time. It’s only advanced a minute since the last time I looked, and I let out a sigh.
Roderick
As the day wears on, I charm Audrey by keeping the customers happy. And when Zara comes in at noon, I charm her with my baking success. “We had to save you a bagel and a pretzel to try because we sold the rest,” I tell her.
“Someone bought a dozen pretzels for her office after tasting them,” Audrey chirps. “She said it wouldn’t be right to keep them to herself.”
But the one person I cannot charm is Kieran Shipley. He avoids eye contact with me, even when I’m being super friendly.
I don’t take it personally, of course. He must be worried about our high school encounters. Maybe he thinks I’ll tell his family that...
Okay, I don’t have the first clue what he’s worried I’ll say. He obviously remembers me, and not in a good way. But I can’t tell if his chilly attitude is because he’s embarrassed, or becaue he’s a jerk. Either way, I don’t have any fucks to give about shit that happened in high school.
Maybe if I could get him alone for a minute, we could talk it out, though. Clear the whole thing up.
But Kieran leaves for the day before I get my chance. And then Audrey asks me to come back tomorrow and open the coffee shop with Zara. “We both want a chance to get to know you,” Audrey says.
“Excellent!” I say with a bright smile. “Sounds great.”
* * *
I sleep like shit that night in my car. You’d think being halfway to getting a job would’ve relaxed me, but instead, I lie there in the cold car and think of all the ways I could still screw it up.
If they run a credit check on me, will the bank say that my credit cards have just been canceled? Is that how credit checks work?
My bigger fear is that they’ll ask Kieran whether or not they should hire me, and he’ll talk them out of it. Kieran is one of those people who listens more than he talks. He can probably smell my desperation.
And he’s family. Audrey is married to Kieran’s cousin. “They’re a big, close-knit family,” she’d said as we chatted.
I’m doomed. And doomed people sleep poorly.
The result is that I’m bleary the next morning when I report for duty with Zara. The bagels and pretzels turn out great, but I’m sluggish behind the counter. I need more calories, too, but I don’t want to stop to take a break.
When Kieran shows up for work after the breakfast rush, Zara declares that she’s taking a break to check in on her daughter. “Can you bake another batch of muffins and some cookies for this afternoon?”
“Of course!” I say brightly, relieved to give up counter duty.
I can almost feel Kieran rolling his eyes. He’s not buying what I have to sell. He steps up to the counter, and I go into the kitchen, retreating to our separate corners like fighters between rounds. I put the muffins into the oven and wait.
* * *
I’m having a happy dream. The best kind of dream.
I’m in a gleaming restaurant kitchen, cooking a meal for the actor Henry Cavill. And he’s flirting with me. But I can’t tell if he’s flirting for real or just being friendly. As I set a plate down in front of him, I’m trying to decide whether or not to slip him my phone number.
“You’re really cute,” he says. “But it’s too bad we knew each other in high school. That ruins everything.”
“Why?” I ask Dream Cavill. But he can’t answer me, because the oven timer starts ringing loudly. I look around but can’t find it.
A few seconds into its persistent beeping, I startle awake and realize that pesty sound is not part of the dream, but real. With a gasp, I yank my head from my hands and rise from my stool so quickly that I sway on my feet.
I lurch over to the oven and check the pumpkin muffins. They’ll need another two minutes, so I close the oven door and shake my bleary head. Finally, I stop the timer’s infernal noise. I spot Kieran in the doorway, frowning at me. He’s the only witness to this shit show.
