Just Roll With It: a Just Us novel (10 page)

"Hey, I haven't known you very long. Who am I to say who your friends should or shouldn't be?" After a moment of thought he adds, "Glad he has a girlfriend, though. Just sayin’." He smiles so wide while taking a drink, I think the water's about to spill out the sides of his mouth. "But really, I trust you’re telling me the truth. Plus, it was cool of him to get on the phone with me."

"Yeah, he's great. I think you'll like him."

Our food arrives, and looks as good as always. I ordered the three-cheese mac and cheese bacon bake. It's so good. He got the salami Ruben with house chips. What you order off a menu can tell a lot about a person. It's not to go unnoticed.
Just sayin’.

I get one or two bites in when I see her out of the corner of my eye.

"Aw, shit."

"What's wrong?" he asks. The concern is evident in his voice.

"My mom," I groan.

I turn to sit lower in my seat and I keep my eyes trained on the table, to no avail.

Roman chuckles. "If that's her—" he points to my unorthodox mother who is making her way over "—then she is on her way here."

"Hide me. No, but for real. I know! I could give you a blow job under the table, the table cloth should hide me."
How mortifying.

"As great as that sounds, and as much as that would possibly be the best thing to happen on a first date ever, I think you need to say hi to her. Plus, she’s already spotted you."

I'm afraid to, but I peek over my shoulder anyway.

"Honey!" my mom screeches as she bounces over. I'm still avoiding looking at her when she hugs me from behind and gives me an embarrassingly loud sounding kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, Mom," I deadpan.

"Fancy seeing you here." She looks to Roman, and I watch her falter the moment she notices the guy I'm with is not Enzo. Her eyes go round with surprise for a split second before she regains her composure. The expression's so subtle I'm not sure if Roman noticed.

"And who is this?"

Who is he to me?
I don't know how to answer. We haven't exactly had time to discuss much. As I sit there fumbling for words, Roman takes the opportunity to jump in and introduce himself.

"Hi, I'm Roman. Nice to meet you."

"Well, well, aren't you delightful. And so cavalier. Linda Damon. Call me Linda, not Mrs. Damon or ma'am or any equally generic bullshit formality. So—" she claps her hands together and bounces in excitement "—is this a date I am interrupting? Oh, please tell me it is." She looks between us expectantly.

I've passed the point of mortification and am fast approaching the pins and needles stage of torment. My face is hot, and I can hear the pounding pressure of the blood rush in my head. The wet trail of an annoying bead of sweat, the one which drips right down the middle of boob cleavage, makes an appearance and it's so not sexy.

Are we on a date? Can I even call it a date, or is it a pre-project fuel up
? I am not ready for the answers to these questions yet, especially in front of my mom. She's probably ecstatic I'm out in public with somebody other than Enz. Roman is looking at me with his signature smug grin, the grin I've decided I love, waiting for me to answer. An answer I don't have.

"Uh … we have a class. Um …"

"Yes, Linda. We are on a date, a first date at that," Roman interrupts my stammering panic and pulls his charm on my mom, and it’s working.

"Why didn't you say so? I wouldn't have come here and crashed it." Yes, she would have. She lives for this shit. "I'll let you two get back to the awkward interactions and subtle flirting." She gives me a knowing smile, "See you later, honey!"

With one more kiss on the cheek, she glides back over to her friend Shell who was paying the bill, and they leave. I can't believe I didn't notice her earlier. This fucking quiet table for two in the back corner, I once found so appealing, is now on my shit list for its obstruction of views and justice.

"I am so sorry, I really did not know she was here," I emphasize.

I place my face in my hands and slowly shake it in disbelief.

"No. No worries, she seems nice," he says before taking a drink and getting back to his sandwich like it really was not a big deal.

"Nice?"

"Yes, nice. And adorably … unique." His mouth curves on one side.

"My family is … Let’s say crazy, for lack of a better word, and I am not exactly a lot like them."

"So, you're telling me you're not crazy?" He actually sounds disappointed.

"No, I definitely did not say I'm not. I am too, I suppose, but in a very different way than them. A polar opposite way than them."

"Do tell." He wiggles his brows up and down.

"I didn't want to tell you yet." I place my hand to my chest and fake offense. "I'll scare you off." I wink in hopes to play my crazy off as a joke.

"Turns out I like fucked up, crazy people," he states without humor. "At least I know ahead of time what I'm getting myself into."

His stoic expression turns quickly into a wicked grin, and without any more thought, he takes another bite of his sandwich.

Once he swallows, he seems to change his mind and decides to elaborate. "It's the ones who start off nice and normal who scare the shit out of me."
If only he knew.

If that's the case, then maybe I shouldn't hide my crazy after all. However, it would be worse if he were to treat me different once he knows. I decide to not say anything in response. Silence is better than bullshit.

A few quiet seconds go by, and I have an intense urge to break the silence. "Which box would you put me in?"

"Box?" he asks, his forehead creased.

"Fucked up crazy, or nice and normal?"

He doesn't even give time to think before he starts. "Not sure yet. I think you're trying pretty hard to be nice and normal but …"

"But?" I prompt.

"But, I can tell there is more to you."

"Can I ask you something then?"

"Anything."

"Why did you agree to do this with me?" He knows what I mean when I say "this".

"I could've continued to ignore you, true."

"Yeah! Speaking of —"

He interrupts me and puts a gentle hand in the air to calm me. "Breathe, feisty Bug. I can't really answer that right now, but I will someday, I promise."

I fold my arms impatiently and stare at him in a way to portray I'm not happy he's grazing over my question but he can go ahead and start talking.

"I had this gut-wrenching feeling, which admittedly I was desperately trying to ignore, a feeling you were going to be one of those inevitable collisions. The kind I couldn't avoid anymore, or shouldn't have avoided at all." Damn. This guy is unreal. "A head-on collision."

Instead of saying something equally deep and important, I reply, "Are you a New Found Glory fan?"
Facepalm.

We get back to my apartment to talk about our speech. We decide on the topic of marijuana. He is going to debate the pros, while I have the cons. The speech will be easy for me considering my disagreement over my mom and brother's choices. Roman is going to think I am lame when he realizes I am on the cons side of our topic in real life, but I can't change who I am any more than I can change how I react to him.

Roman is in the bathroom, but I jump when my front door bursts open like a bat from hell and scares the bejesus out of me. Enzo throws himself backward against the door, slamming so hard I could actually hear the wood frame split. He continues to stand there with his head lightly banging backward against the hard surface. He's absolutely panicked and frantically chanting.

"Shit, fuck, shit, I am so screwed."

"Date not go well?" I heckle while I watch him race around the apartment rearranging stuff. My stuff. Hold up, not cool.

"What the hell is going on? Tell me now!" I demand and stomp my foot like the irritated toddler that I am.

"Get your ass in gear and help me," he shouts back. "We have to get rid of all of your girly shit. Candles, flowers, potpourri, all of it." He motions his hand in a huge circle-like fashion around the entire place. "And hurry," he adds desperately.

"What! Why would I get rid of all of my stuff, I like the girly shit!" I argue.

"She thinks I live with a dude. So move it. Your ass and your stuff. Hide the crap in your bedroom for a while."

He kicks my door open gently and sets an armful of my belongings on my bed. I give him my best ball-shriveling glare, the one on most days would bring him to his knees, and he knows I need an explanation now.

"I haven't brought her here yet because I told her my roommate was a guy. I always go to her place to avoid the subject. Well, today she's all like ‘It's not fair’ and ‘You always come to me so I will come to your place this time’. What was I supposed to do, huh? She was trying to be sweet. I can't tell her, ‘No, you can't come over’."

He is practically hyperventilating now. I don't think I have ever seen him so rattled.

Roman walks out of the bathroom and sees my crazy roommate running around in a frenzy, throwing all of my shit in my room.

"What the hell did I miss?" he asks, laughing but still confused.

"Roman!" Enzo yells. " Thank the muthafuckin’ Thor you're here!"

Roman stands there with a lifted eyebrow as he takes in the bizarre scene he's just walked into.

"See, today she asked what my roommate’s name was, because she was planning on coming over, and I froze. I sort of blurted 'Roman'."

"You did what now?" I bark.

"It was the first name that came to mind. The last guy name I'd heard, when you were talking about him. It just came out. And now she's on her way over, and, coincidentally, he happens to be here. Dude, you gotta work with me, I really like her. I don't want to fuck it up before it starts due to the fact I'm a dumbass and lied about the sex of my roommate."

Roman and I both lift our heads to look at him.

"The
gender
of my roommate," he loudly clarifies, annoyed at our unspoken accusation. "For fuck’s sake!"

Enzo's rabid purging comes to an end when most of my stuff is out of immediate sight. He starts to calm down, but I still see the subtle signs of defeat in his features.

"It's probably going to come out later anyway, you can't lie about who you live with forever," I say carefully.

"Let’s cross that bridge when we get there, shall we? She'll be here in ten."

We all pitch in and add some finishing touches to make the place appear more masculine, in record time, might I add. It's a good thing because she arrived right on time.

She is very pretty. Short and thin with long black hair. She's dressed in a vintage
Star Wars
t-shirt, the kind you can tell she's had since way before the newest film was even a thought, which makes me like her even more. I hate when girls dress all fancy and wear boatloads of make up to impress guys. I may be a tiny bit guilty of that with Roman, but some girls go way too far.

"Marty, meet my friend Rigbee and her boyfriend AKA, my roommate, Roman."

Mine and Roman's eyes meet, and I know we are both thinking the same thing. The boyfriend comment. We have not discussed our "situation" at all so far.

"And guys, this is Marty."

She gives us a shy but friendly wave and then looks back at Enzo. I can see in her face and gestures she adores him almost as much as I do.

"I think we should probably finish working on our speeches, we'll be in the bedroom," I tell them.

Roman follows me to my room with our text books and papers in hand.

"That was interesting," he muses.

"Always is."

"So, do you want to talk about it?" he asks, whispering almost.

"Talk about what?" I respond absently, even though I know exactly what he is referring to.

"The boyfriend comment. I saw your face when he said it. You freaked."

"Me? Freaked? No. I was more concerned about you. I didn't want you to think I told him you were my boyfriend, because I swear I didn't. I think he said it to explain his whole roommate dilemma."

"True. So it wasn't that word specifically you panicked about?"

What is he getting at?
I really don't like how he used the word panic.

"No, of course not."

"Then … what do you say?" His voice cracks nervously. "You wanna do it?" He draws his lower lip between his teeth, and his eyes burn with intention and apprehension.

"Do it? Do what?"

Then it hits me smack in the face what he's asking.

"Like, be your girlfriend?" I shriek in a high pitch and almost unintelligible manner.

"It's too soon. Fuck. Isn't it? I'm sorry, I just … I was thinking maybe …" He's fidgeting all over the place now.

"No." I shake my head out. "Yes. I mean, yes. Okay, let’s do it. Why not?"

I have been dreaming about him, literally, since I saw him for the first time so I can't fully comprehend what is actually happening. It would be ridiculous for me to turn him down. We could get to know each other and learn as we go, right?

He exhales and looks to the ceiling. "Thank God. Wait, should I say thank Thor? What's all that about?"

"Oh, I have this thing for Thor, like a really big thing. Enzo knows about my comic book crush and jokes with me about him being my god. Lately, he's been replacing the word god in his sentences with Thor as joke. It's become normal now, and I even find myself saying it. It gets catchy, you'll see."