Page 131 of My Roommate from Hell
“I’ll do it,” says Zarmenus as he tips more of his potion into the next cup. Wait, is he drunk? I’ve seen him tipsy, but never like this.
He proceeds to drink the remaining beers, one after the other, pouring an increasingly messy splash of the potion into each one. When he finishes the last one, he staggers, only just managing to stay on his feet. He’s not out of the ordinary here; a lot of people are completely wasted and one guy has already thrown up in the bathroom. But it’s strange seeing this side of Zarmenus.
“Owen, do you want a go?” asks Madison. “I just demolished your boyfriend. I want the set.”
“I’m good,” I say. I probably would say yes, if it weren’t for Zarmenus acting this way.
He puts down the last beer cup, and I instantly know something is wrong. He lurches forward, and I rush to his side, catching him at the last moment. He puts his hand on my shoulder, steadying himself. He lifts his head to look into my eyes. Even through the haze of the alcohol I see a spark of something, of familiarity and affection I’d swear was real if I didn’t know better. We’re only inches away from each other, and all the things I try not to notice or feel come rushing in, too strong for me to resist. I remember kissing him, his smile, the glow I feel when I make him laugh.
“You’re always coming to my rescue,” he says.
“It’s what I’m here for.”
I’m aware that everyone in the room is watching this interaction. We’ve had this happen before, but this is different. They aren’t watching a moment we planned. This is genuine, and Zarmenus being this drunk is dangerous. He’s clearly not in control of himself, and given the huge secret we have, that’s terrifying.
He squeezes my shoulder, feeling me through the thin material of my shirt. “You’re cute when you’re protective.”
“You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” I lower my voice. “We should get you home, we have a big day tomorrow, remember?”
“I’m fine, see.” He tries to walk in a straight line, but he wobbles all over the place. “I’ll burn it off, I just need to lie down.”
“Is he okay?” asks Madison, who has her arm slung over Evie’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” says Zarmenus, his voice slurring. “I can handle my poison.”
“I think he needs a minute,” I say.
“You’re really pretty,” says Zarmenus to Madison. “Not as pretty as Owen, but still so pretty. You, too, Evie. If I knew people who liked board games were as hot as you three I would’ve gotten into them way sooner.”
“So he’s wasted,” says Evie.
“The bedroom’s down the hall,” adds Madison. “He can lie down for a second. And Zarmenus, I don’t care if you’re the prince of Hell, if you throw up in my room I will murder you. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Come on,” I say, trying to pull Zarmenus toward the hall. It’s difficult, because he’s surprisingly heavy.
“What will you do for me if I do?” he asks.
I give him a blank stare, daring him to continue.
“Fine, all right, I’ll come. You sound like my parents.Do this, Zarmenus. Don’t set fire to that, Zarmenus.”
I practically carry the still rambling Zarmenus down the hall. I look over my shoulder as we reach Madison’s bedroom to catch Tyrell watching us. It seems he’s sobered up a little, and his eyebrows narrow as we go into the bedroom.
The room is mostly pink, and clearly, Madison’s put a lot of time, effort, and care into decorating. It’s not my style, but it’s very well put-together.
Zarmenus can barely stay on his feet, and he’s resting most of his weight on me. I help him to the bed, where he flops backward onto the bedspread.
I close the door behind us. He’s finally gone quiet, and is alarmingly still. I’ve lived with him long enough to know that he’s pretty much always moving. “You all right?”
He gives me a thumbs-up, his hand shooting straight into the air.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
