Page 48 of Roommate
“I only meant that maybe if he brings guys home with him, Kieran would have to listen to ’em…”
“Oh, shut it!” I sputter, finally finding my voice. “Jesus.”
That’s when I hear Roderick’s door close softly, as if someone has just attempted to shut it noiselessly.
“Oops,” Kyle says, and I want to punch him.
“He’s probably heard worse,” Griffin whispers. “But you could apologize, maybe.”
Kyle’s gaze flicks toward the back of the house. I can’t imagine what my boneheaded brother might say for an apology. He might actually make it worse.
“No,” I grunt. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Show us your room,” Griff suggests.
“Nah,” I say, suddenly eager for them to get gone. “Nothing there but a bed and a desk. I don’t even have a dresser, yet.”
“I think Mom has an extra one,” Griff says. “Want me to ask?”
“Sure,” I say, just hoping they’ll leave. “Thanks.”
Griff squeezes my shoulder. “Good to see you, dude. You’re pressing cider with me tomorrow night, right?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be late,” I point out. “Somebody has to water the cows.”
“Ah,” he says. “Is your dad doing better?”
“Still kinda rough,” Kyle says. “Progress is slow.”
They make their way out, and I say my goodbyes while trying not to sound hasty.
When they’re finally gone, I head toward the one place in the house where I never go—Roderick’s room. The door is shut, but there’s a strip of light showing beneath it. I knock. “Hey man, can I come in?”
“Sure.”
I open the door and find him lying on his back on top of his sleeping bag, hands folded behind his head. “What’s up?”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“About…?” He looks confused.
“My brother talking like a doofus. Maybe you didn’t hear him. But he was wondering whether…”
He holds up a hand to stop me. “I heard him fine. But—like your cousin said—I’ve heard worse. Kyle was just thinking out loud, displaying his discomfort with listening to two guys get it on. I hated it for you much more than for me.”
“Why?”
Roderick sits up and looks me right in the eye.
“Oh,” I say slowly. “Yeah.” Because I’m not as straight as Kyle thinks I am. And won’t that be a fun little chat someday? I can’t even imagine.
“Your cousin seems nice,” Roderick says. “Griffin. Another lumberjack.”
I grin, because he really does look like one. “Totally. That side of the family is great.” I sort of look around for a place to sit, but there’s only the floor. I lower myself down, still feeling tipsy.
Even though there isn’t any furniture in here, Roderick’s room is nicer than mine. He’s begun to hang things on the walls, I’ve noticed. There’s a poster of a baker kneading a loaf, announcing a contest that took place a couple of years ago. And postcards from here and there dot the walls.
“You’re more moved in than I am,” I observe.
