Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Logically, I knew there was no reason to worry. Roger liked this guy, so he probably wasn’t an asshole. Even if he was, it didn’t matter much. The next few weeks would pass, and Everett would move on. It didn’t have to be a big deal.
Still though, I had my concerns. I didn’t do well with new people, new situations, or change in general, and it was only getting worse with age. If I was this set in my ways at thirty-six, I had to wonder what I’d be like ten or twenty years from now. It was easy to picture myself in a kind of self-imposed time loop, living each day exactly like the one before it.
Somehow, that idea wasn’t nearly as troubling as it should have been.
A loud knock pulled me out of my thoughts. I’d been sweeping the floor under the stove because I’d run out of things to clean, so I quickly moved the appliance back into place before hurrying to the foyer.
All I could see of my new roommate when I opened the door were two hands and a pair of tan, muscular legs. He was carrying a towering stack of cardboard boxes labeled “Phil,” and for some reason he was also clutching a six-foot-tall fake upholstered cactus. I had to wonder how he’d made it from the basement parking garage like that.
A deep voice said, “Hey, I’m Ever. Am I in the right place?”
“Yeah, you are. Let me help you.”
“Thanks. Grab the cactus, I’ve got the rest.”
I did as he asked, but it didn’t help much. As he followed me into the apartment, a box fell off the pile with a loud crash. “Shoot,” he muttered, “that sounded bad.”
He put down the rest of the boxes while I tried to choose a spot for the cactus. I ended up positioning it in a corner beside a potted Ficus tree before turning to my new roommate. He was crouched down with his back to me, shaking the box that had fallen. The way it rattled sounded like it was full of broken dishes.
Some kind of motion drew my attention to the plastic backpack he was wearing, which looked like a prop from a low-budget sci-fi movie. It was big, red, and bulbous, with a domed window on the front and rows of mesh portholes down both sides. Suddenly, a creature with a triangular head and huge, yellow eyes appeared in that window. I reflexively took a step back and blurted, “What is that?”
“What’s what?” The creature let loose with a piercing wail, and Everett sighed. “I knew Phil would hate this new carrier. Can you please shut the front door while I get him out of there? I don’t want him to run off.”
I hurried to the door while he took off the backpack and freed whatever was trapped inside it. When I returned a few seconds later, he turned to me holding a cat, more or less. The thing was long, skinny, and mostly bald, aside from some wispy patches of gray fur. It looked annoyed, bordering on disgusted, so the happy face T-shirt it wore seemed ironic.
Everett scratched its big ears and spoke to it like he was addressing a person. “Sorry, Phil. I thought this would be the safest way to get you and all your stuff upstairs in one trip, but it must have been weird for you.”
“Is he okay?”
I was referring to that fur situation, but he started to say, “He’s fine. He hated being confined, though. I should have known he…” His words trailed off as we finally made eye contact, and we both frowned in confusion.
Why did he look familiar?
He was an exceptionally good-looking guy, there was no doubt about it. He had short, dark hair and a perfectly groomed short beard, and his eyes were a striking shade of sky blue. He was about an inch taller than me—which never happened, since I was six and a half feet tall—and his build was even more muscular than mine. It was rare to encounter anyone that big. In fact, it had only happened once in recent memory.
Recognition dawned on both of us in the same instant, and I exclaimed, “Sven!”
In the same instant, he blurted, “David!”
This startled the cat, who leapt out of his owner’s arms. As he darted away, Everett called, “Come back, Phil!” To no one’s surprise, this was totally ineffective.
While he hurried after the cat, I scrubbed my hands over my face and cringed at the memory of the night we met. I never thought I’d see him again, and I’d been happy about that. What were the chances we’d not only have a mutual friend, but that he’d end up as my temporary roommate? Clearly, the universe had a twisted sense of humor.
He had to feel as awkward about this as I did, so maybe he’d grab his shit, turn right around again, and go stay somewhere else. That idea perked me up a bit. To speed up this process, I went to help him find Phil.