Page 23 of My Roommate from Hell
“That’s perfectly fine.” He turns to me. “You sure you don’t want one?”
“I’m good.”
Zarmenus pays, then comes over to me. “Why did that man act like me ordering from his shop was a strange thing to do?”
“It’s because it’s so early,” I say. “Most people don’t order food like that until, like, lunch. He was probably expecting you to order a coffee or a breakfast wrap or something.”
“You humans sure do love your rules. Like a food is any different if it’s eaten later in the day.” He swings his arms. “Well, we’ve got time to kill. Should we explore?”
We make our way through the tents. As we browse, I think it might be a good idea for me to join a group, if I can find one that sounds fun.
“Any of these interest you?” I ask Zarmenus.
“Not even slightly,” he says.
We go around a corner, and I see a tent that practically screams out to me. They’ve got a rainbow sign readingGAYMERS, and everyone who’s working the booth is wearing a black shirt with a rainbow across the chest. I approach the tent, and a girl with blond hair smiles at me.
“Hi!” she says, her voice bright and sunny.
“Hi,” I say back. “So what’s this club?”
“We’re Gaymers,” she says. “Most of us are a part of the LGBTQ+ community, but we welcome all, no matter how you identify. Weplay video and board games and have meetings once a week. Are you a gamer?”
“Big time.”
I fight the urge to wince at myself. Did I really just say “big time”?
“Board games or video games?”
“Both,” I say. “But only if the board game is cooperative. My parents never fight but if you bring out a competitive game the night always ends in tears.”
“Trust me, we mostly play co-op games for that very reason. If you’d like to join, you can sign your name here. We’re having our first game night on Thursday. You’re welcome to come.”
“I’d love to,” I say.
“Excellent. I’m Madison, by the way.”
“Owen.”
I start writing my details on the sign-up sheet.
“What about you?” asks Madison as she turns to Zarmenus. If she’s ruffled by meeting the prince of Hell, it doesn’t show. “Would you like to join?”
He seems like he has been caught in headlights, and that he would prefer to swallow a rusty nail than attend.
“No thanks,” he says. “That sounds like torture, but I’ve got my hands full at the moment so I’ll have to regretfully pass.”
“Fair enough. Well, nice meeting you, Owen and Zarmenus.”
I like her already. I feel a sort of glow from within my chest. I think I’ve found my people. We do another lap, but none of the other groups appeal to me even slightly as much as the Gaymers. In fact, I’m already excited about the first game night. And I’ll be honest, I’m excited about being friends with Zarmenus. Walking with him right now feels a little like I’m walking with a celebrity—people keep doing double takes as we pass them. I’ve never experienced anything like it, and I actually don’t mind the attention, probably because it’s not directed squarely at me.
Zarmenus doesn’t seem to mind the attention, either. If anythinghe’s reveling in it. Whenever he catches someone watching him he smiles a huge smile, or winks at them.
After we finish the lap, we go back to the hot dog truck, and Zarmenus’s hot dog is waiting for him. He takes it, and I feel a twinge of hunger. Maybe he’s right. Maybe the rules we humans have about when to eat certain foods are a little ridiculous. Wasn’t breakfast for dinner a big trend a little while ago? Why can’t dinner for breakfast be a thing?
“Fine, I’ll get one,” I say.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. Zarmenus’s whole face lights up.
