Page 5 of Betting on the Boy Next Door
Ipullintomyparking space behind the Grove Townhomes after a Sunday morning thrifting run. Usually, thrift stores are crowded on the weekend, but in a party town like Austin, I was banking on some relaxed New Year’s Day browsing, and I got it. Didn’t find anything good, but that’s okay; no matter what else happens in a day, I can always count on my reserved space as a bright spot. The parking in our complex—which sometimes borders on demolition derby between 5 and 6 PM—is its only real drawback, which is why I was convinced to move in with the promise of a designated spot.
I walk into our condo and hang my purse by the door. Madison is sitting in front of the TV, watchingSight Unseen.
“Hey, bestie.” She says it on autopilot, not taking her eyes from the screen.
“Don’t watch that,” I tell her. It’s a reality show about couples who get married without seeing each other.
“I can’t look away. You get that I made out with this guy the other day, right?” She points to a medium-cute guy on the screen who is fixing to meet the girl he chose face-to-face.
“You mean six months ago?”
Madi glances over and blinks her lash extensions at me. “Same difference.” With a toss of her perfect caramel highlights, she turns back to the TV.
“How many times have you watched this?” I ask her.
“Lost count,” she mumbles.
Ruby appears from the hallway. Madi is a very carefully cultivated kind of knockout. Ruby Ramos is the kind of understated gorgeous that takes your breath when you finally notice, and she has no idea.
“Hey, bestie,” Ruby says, heading to the kitchen.
“Hey. How was New Year’s?” I ask. “You and Niles have fun?”
“Yeah. We watched the CNN countdown and watched the ball drop.” She continues to the kitchen, and Madi and I make faces at each other.
The worst, she mouths. She means Niles, and I nod. What a twerp.
“What about you?” I say aloud.
Madi shrugs. “Always a good night for tips. Made rent for the whole month already. What did you do?”
Made fifty bucks for playing a gig at a tiny club where no one cared because we went on after midnight and they were already drunk.Aloud, I say, “Went to a movie with a couple of work friends.”
A door opens down the hall and my fourth and final roommate, Ava, makes an appearance. She’s dressed in jeans and a lime green sweater that’s the perfect color for her red hair and pale complexion. We’re all obsessed with her hair; it falls below her shoulders in fat curls. She says curly hair is annoying, and we take turns threatening to beat her.
“Hey, bestie,” she says, stopping at the end of the hall and leaning against the wall.
“Can’t believe you’re not at work,” Madi says.
Ava slides her hands into her pockets and strolls the rest of the way into the living room. “I don’t want another official roommate meeting.”
Madi smirks. “So now you’re just hanging out here, wishing you were at the lab anyway?”
Ava plops into an armchair. “I didn’t say that.”
Ruby walks out from the kitchen. “Do I have this right? Madi worked on New Year’s Eve, Sami went to a movie with work friends, and you”—she points to Ava—“did what last night?”
Ava picks at her jeans. “Stayed home.”
“And did what?” Ruby presses.
Ava’s jaw firms in a stubborn line. “Watched an octopus documentary. And Ilikedit.”
Ruby makes a disgusted tsk. “¿Neta? You know what I was doing at midnight last night? Kissing my man. When’s the last time any of you did that?” She holds up her hand as Madi starts to answer. “I’m talking about a boy you go out with more than once.”
Madi shuts her mouth. None of us points out that we’d make the same choices between kissing Niles and our actual New Year’s Eve plans.
“I’m waiting,” Ruby says. “I mean it. When’s the last time any of you had a New Year’s Eve that was so pathetic?”
