Page 14 of (La)Crosse My Heart

Jackson comes into the room and gives me a guilty look. “I might’ve put something down the disposal I shouldn’t have.”

I frown and throw back the covers. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not used to a food disposal, and I think I put something a little too big in there.”

“What exactly did you put down it?” I ask, gritting my teeth to keep from yelling. Sometimes having roommates is like running a daycare.

He says nothing, looking like a deer in headlights.

I walk into the kitchen, shaking my head. I’d bought this house earlier this spring, knowing it would be easier if I didn’t have to keep throwing away money on rent. It’s not a mansion, but it’s a nice enough house. But I don’t want to ruin thingsbefore or after the warranty runs out. I doubt the warranty would cover anything, to be honest. That’s been my experience, at least.

I glance into the sink and see a bone in there. “Please tell me you didn’t put chicken wing bones in there,” I say, running a hand over my face.

“I didn’t know, man,” Jackson says, giving me a look like he’s terrified of getting into trouble. “I just thought it could take anything put down there.”

I want to yell, but I have to remember a few of my roommates don’t have the same world experience I have. Jackson is a baby at twenty-one years old, and this is the first time he’s really been on his own. It sounds like it’s a miracle his mom didn’t move out here when he did, since she’d bought a place by his college. Home-cooked meals every night sounds amazing, but having my mom keep track of everything I do isn’t a good enough tradeoff.

Throwing the bone from the sink away, I then focus on the drain. My hand is way too big to fit in there.

“Can you fit your hand?” I ask, leaning against the counter and waving for Jackson to take a chance.

He tries and it’s the first time I’ve realized his hands are even bigger than mine.

I think about the other guys in the house. Chances are low we’ll be able to fish the bone out of the drain.

Jessa?

She wasn’t super excited to be working with me and then finding out we’re living across the street from each other threw both of us for a loop.

The easier route would be to call a plumber. But since it’s after hours, I don’t know if I want to foot that bill. Sure, I’m making more money than I have since I started with this team three years ago, but I know how fast it can all go if I don’t spend it wisely.

I slip on my slides and walk toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Jackson asks.

I sigh, knowing I’ll have to prepare for a debate and maybe some bribery to get her over here.

“To get some help.”

I’m grumbling as I walk across my grass in the twilight. It’s hard to see the curb, so I step carefully, wanting to avoid a weird sprain or even an ACL tear. It sounds ridiculous, but I’ve heard of stranger things.

There are no lights on inside, and I’m wondering if maybe I should wait until morning. Then again, my roommates aren’t all the brightest and would end up using the sink even if I taped it off and put a warning sign next to it.

I finally lift my hand and knock on the door. I freeze, trying to listen as much as possible, but I hear nothing.

I knock again and finally see a small glow of light through one of the window squares on the door. The glass is opaque, so it’s not super clear.

Did I get the wrong house? I turn to see her car still in the driveway connected to this house.

A figure is walking toward me. The door opens the smallest crack.

There’s about three seconds before she opens the door wide enough for me to see her face.

“What do you need, Clark?” she says, rubbing her face. It’s then I see she’s got her keys stuck between her first and second finger.

“What are you doing with those?” I ask.

“I didn’t have my usual safety items, so I figured this could at least make someone uncomfortable, especially if I shove it in their eye.”

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