Page 30 of Roommating

Adam willwantto keep it light and admit that it was my idea because he has too much idle time, but he’s too smart to take the risk of sounding apathetic. He’ll say something about his love ofreading and how much time he spent with his grandmother at his local library as a child.

Why should I hire you?

I bet he’ll say he’s a hard worker who believes that libraries are more than big rooms with books. He might talk about wanting to pay it forward to the community. I said both of these things in my interview.

What are you reading now?

Last I saw, he was readingThe Ferrymanby Justin Cronin, but he might be finished by now.

An incoming text jolts me out of my imaginary interview.

Adam:I’m finished

The necklace cord I’m holding, part of our jewelry-making event, slides out of my clammy hands.

Sabrina:Where are you now?

Adam:Young adult

Sabrina:I’ll be right there

For the second time in an hour, I leave the box of supplies unattended and find Adam. This time, he’s thumbing through the pages ofThis Lullabyby Sarah Dessen. “This one’s on the bookshelf at home.”

This isn’t how I expected him to greet me minutes after concluding his job interview with my boss. It’s also strange to hear him call the apartment “home,” but not a bad weird, just weird. “She’s one of my favorite authors.”

He grins. “I got the job.”

“Way to bury the lede. Congratulations!” As the word comes out, I realize that, despite my anxiety over spending so much time with him, I truly mean it.

“Thank you! I can start training on Monday, but there’s paperwork to fill out. Jenny has a lunch call so I’m going to come back later. In the meantime, you get a lunch hour, right?”

I laugh. “You haven’t started yet, and you’re already concerned about your lunch breaks?”

“No. I’m asking if you want to grab lunch with me today. Like now.”

My breath catches. I figured he’d go home after the interview and I’d have time to ease my way into the reality of us livingandworking together. But now he’s asking me to lunch. Will this be a regular thing?

“I’ll come back with you after to complete the forms, but I have some questions about the job you can probably answer best.”

I feel a mixture of disappointment and relief that this is about the job and not because he wants to spend even more time with me.

“She also said you’d be the one training me during your regular shifts.”

This catches me off guard and my skin heats up under my T-shirt as my frisky imagination conjures up a scenario where I’m forced to discipline Adam for returning a book to the wrong shelf or some other egregious library act. Then my stomach growls, reminding me to stay in the moment. Adam’s asked me to go to lunch, not be the dominatrix to his subordinate.

He points in the vicinity of my belly. “Feed me,” he says in an otherworldly voice.

I press both hands over my stomach and feign confusion. “Huh?That wasn’t me.”Rumble.Rumble.I sigh. Why is my digestive system such a bitch?

Adam’s eyes twinkle. “Seriously. Let’s eat.”

We go to Citizens of Gramercy, an Australian café a few blocks away that serves “brekky” all day. Although there’s plenty of seating, either at two communal tables by the entrance or one of the six smaller tables deeper inside the narrow space, I follow Adam to the counter, where we sit on two of the four open stools. Aside from a patch of floral wallpaper, the walls are painted white. On the far end of the café, the phrase, “Stay gorgeous, Gramercy” is lit up in hot-pink script.

I flip through the laminated menu. It’s a vegan/gluten-free/dairy-free paradise. “Too bad they don’t have mutton.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it.”

I drop the menu onto my lap. “No, thank you. I might not celebrate Christmas, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with eating Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”

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