Grinning, he asked, “Am I comely?” He must have noticed my face growing redder and redder. “Jesus. You don’t have to answer that.”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “What else does it say?”
“It says, another meaning is ‘son of a fair man.’ I’ve been called a son of a something before, but never that.” He put his phone down. “So, Miss Solitary, have you ever lived with roommates before?”
“No. This is my first time. I was living alone in a studio apartment off of Beacon Street in Brookline, near Coolidge Corner. It was in the basement of some guy’s house.”
He grimaced. “Sounds creepy.”
“It was a little bit creepy, but no one ever bothered me.”
“What happened? How did you end up here?”
“The place was foreclosed, and they had to kick me out. Moses happened to mention that you guys lost a roommate. So, that’s how this came about. It’s not really my first choice to have roommates. I prefer to live alone.”
“You don’t say,” he said sarcastically. “You feel like you’re allergic to other people or something?”
“I guess.”
He sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and kicked his feet up on another. “Well, I’m allergic to bullshit. There’s no such thing as this allergy you think you have. You’re just shy, maybe a little insecure. It’s as simple as that. There’s only one cure for that shit and that’s to say ‘fuck it all’ and stop caring about what other people think. Give zero fucks. Have no fucks left to give. Fuck it all until there’s nothing left to fuck.” He stopped himself, lifting his index finger and chuckled. “That last part didn’t sound right.”
“I understand what you meant. It’s just easier said than done.”
“Well, you know we can’t live together if you get hives every time I’m around.”
“I’ll get used to you. I know you think I’m a weirdo.”
“Who said that?”
“It’s obvious what you’re thinking.”
“I would be willing to bet you have no clue what I’m actually thinking right now. Want to know the truth?”
“What?”
“It’s refreshing to meet someone not so full of themself. I’m surrounded by people all day long who couldn’t care less what other people think of them. I’m one of those people as well. So, the other extreme…we’re not any better. But your scenario is a fuck of a lot more stressful on a daily basis.”
“You got that right. I’d give anything to not care what people think.”
He squinted his eyes and seemed to be examining my face. “I’ll make a deal with you, Frankie.”
What did he just call me?
“Frankie?”
“Yes. You look nothing like a Francesca. You look like a Frankie to me.”
“What were you going to say?”
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’m an asshole, right?”
“Okay…”
“You’re a scaredy cat—a pussy.”
“I’m a pussy…”
“I’ll rub some of my asshole off on you if you rub some of your pussy off on me.”
My eyes widened. “You’ll rub your asshole on me?”
“Not literally. You’ve had enough of my actual private parts to last a year.”
I smiled, stifling a laugh.
“Oh, shit. Is that a smile?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“Okay. Let me clarify. What I mean is...if I catch you acting like a nervous spaz, I’ll call you out on it, remind you that it’s not necessary. If you catch me acting like a dick—kind of like when I yelled at you last night after you accidentally tried to use my penis as a nightstick—you call me out on it. Can you do that?”
“I think so.”
“Alright. And in the meantime, we just try to co-exist without accidentally touching each other’s genitals, damaging household items, or breaking out into hives.”
“I can’t help the hives. They’re a natural reaction to nerves.”
“But you can help the nerves by learning to not give a shit.”
“Okay. I’ll try.”
He chuckled. “I don’t believe you.”
“You can’t just undo years of being a certain way overnight.”
“That’s true, I guess.” He looked into my eyes, and I suddenly became uncomfortable again. “Why the glasses?”
“Because I told you, I’m nearly blind.”
“Yeah, but why don’t you get Lasik surgery?”
“I thought about that, but I’m scared they’ll screw up, and I’ll go blind.”