Page 22 of My Roommate from Hell
I spin the wheel. There are a lot of prizes on offer, but the best is a Point T-shirt. For a moment it seems like the wheel is going to stop on that, but then it ticks over, landing onTOTE BAG.
“Here you go,” she says.
It has the Point logo on the front, and inside is a branded penand notebook, as well as some flyers for events planned throughout the week. Not bad, considering it was free.
“Wait,” says the woman. “You’re Zarmenus.”
“I am.”
“Oh my God,” she says. “My sorority is having a party on Saturday, youhaveto come.”
“I’ll think about it.” He spins the wheel, and I notice him concentrating. Just when it seems like the wheel is slowing down, it picks up speed, only to stop on the free T-shirt space.
“Did you cheat?” she asks, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t give prizes to cheaters. Even cute ones.”
“I’d never, I promise.”
“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute. What size?”
“Owen, what size are you?”
“Medium,” I say.
She hands him a medium shirt, which he then hands to me.
“It’s yours,” he says. “I could tell you wanted it.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Wait,” says the girl working the desk. She turns back, writing something on a piece of paper, then offers it to him.
“It’s my number,” she says. “In case you want to come to the party. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
He puts the number into his pocket. Then the two of us go farther down the fair.
“Does that happen a lot?” I ask.
“People giving me their number?” he asks. “I’ve only been on Earth a few days, but I’d say it happens fairly frequently.”
“Do you ever get sick of the attention?” I ask.
“Never.”
Almost everywhere we go, people are openly staring at us. Or, not really us. They’re staring at him.
“For the record, I did cheat to win you the shirt. You’re welcome. Ooh, hot dogs. I love hot dogs. Do you want one?”
He takes off, heading toward a food truck. We reach it, and hestands in front of the window. I check the time on my phone. It’s not even nine thirty in the morning yet, which is way too early for a hot dog. They are not, nor will they ever be, a breakfast food.
“Want one?” asks Zarmenus. “My treat, they accept meal plan swipes.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He approaches the truck. “One mighty meat lover’s hot dog, please.”
The guy working the stand blinks. “There will be a little wait for that one, we only just opened. Is twenty minutes okay?”
