He Shoots, She scores

Chapter One: Gracie | The Ad Listing

If you're just starting college, let me give you a lifesaving tip. Never, under any circumstances, ever, room with people you've never met before. I know what you're thinking. Gracie, how else are you supposed to make friends? Gracie, isn't this part of the college experience? I'm here to telling you that rooming with strangers from a craigslist ad is not the way to go. Usually, these people are on the market for a reason. Nobody will want to live with them because they don't clean, they don't cook, they'll blast music until 4am, they will bring strangers over without permission, and worst of all, they'll eat all your food. That was my exact experience.

As a broke college student, I couldn't afford to be picky. But when you constantly wake up without a single clean dish or utensil to use, it becomes a problem. When I found out my disgusting perv of a roommate Dylan, who thought he rocked a Hitler mustache and played the banjo as a hobby, had placed a camera in the bathroom, that's when I lost it. The next day, I called up my best friend, Nessa, (whose birth name is actually Vanessa but we've always preferred the short form) and she helped me move out. Not only did she let me crash at her place with her in the meantime, (she lives with her parents still and attends the local community college) but she helped me scour the internet for new roommate listings.

This is where the hypocrisy comes in. I know I just said you should never live with strangers like five seconds ago, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm 21 years old, about to enter my senior year of college, without a roof to live under. By senior year, you're too old to live in the dorms and at home. (Hey, I'd move back in with my mom anyday, but that's over a two hour drive away, so not really an option). The last resort would be to sleep on the streets. And trust me, considering how high rent is these days, I've considered it.

"Ohh, what about this one?" Nessa asks. We're huddled in front of her laptop, wearing face masks and messy buns, shoving ice cream in our mouths. With her spoon between her lips, she mumbles, "Four party-loving girls looking for a fifth member. Will accept anyone, but firm warning that our house gets kind of crazy."

"Oh, yes please! These girls sound like my cup of tea!" I grin at the photo on the screen. They definitely come from a sorority. Even better.

"Shoot. It says one of them is allergic to hairy pets."

I groan. "Then it's an automatic no."

Nessa frowns at me. "This is like the third ad we've seen that doesn't accept animals. Are you sure you're willing to risk a place to stay just for some ratty bunny?"

I flick her forehead, much to her dismay. "This ratty bunny is my second-best friend, okay?" I scoop up my bunny from the ground and cradle her close to my chest. Olive is a black angora breed, so her insane mat of fur makes people assume she's a dog. They get freaked out by her laser red eyes, but I couldn't care less. I got her for my 16th birthday present, and I've loved her ever since. Wherever I go, Olive goes. She licks my cheek as if to read my thoughts.

Nessa rolls her eyes and continues scrolling down the screen. She's not the biggest fan of animals, which is where the difference between us ends. "This is the last decent ad I can find." Nessa squints. She reaches up to tighten her dirty blonde hair with red streaks. The thing to know about Nessa is that when she's hurt, emotionally I mean, she copes by altering her appearance. Last month her hair was purple. The month before that it was pitch black. And just a few weeks ago she got her heart broken by some hockey player who only used her for sex. Hence, the blood red highlights. "Hey, this isn't bad. They welcome all forms of pets, for one-"

My posture straightens. "I'm listening."

"It says they're a relatively clean household-"

"Ouuu."

"Occasional parties, they warn-"

"Bonus!"

"The location is only a ten minute walk from campus-"

"Score!"

"You'd get your own bedroom-"

"Sign. Me. Up!" I'm up on my chair, doing a little dance, wondering why Nessa hasn't joined me yet.

But then she says: "Only one catch."

"Oh, come on, they'll accept Olive! Anything else I can live with."

My best friend purses her lips. Based on the judgmental stare, it must be pretty bad. "Gracie" she says, as if warning me that a black bear is right behind me. "They're all boys."

I freeze. Boys. Hm. "How many, exactly?"

"Three. You'd be the lone female wolf."

My face mask suddenly feels constricting. I want to go to the bathroom and peel it off. But then my phone rings. A call from my mother, according to caller ID. "Excuse me, it's my mom. Gotta take this."

I lock myself in the bathroom, Olive still in my arms. "Hey, mama."

"Gracie!" Her shrill, rosy voice is music to my ears. "How's my kitten?"

"Great!" I lie. What I don't mention: how I'm currently homeless. But she doesn't need to know that. The last year has been incredibly hard for her. She just got diagnosed with cancer last fall and has only been in remission for a few weeks. The news broke me and made me fearful for the future. I had actually considered moving back home with her to take care of her, but mom quite literally forced my back out there. So now I owe it to her to 'live my best life.' Her words, not mine. I don't want to burden her with something I can solve myself. After all, she raised a strong, independent girl. I shouldn't have to crawl back to mommy for a minor problem.

"You getting along with your roommates okay?" The disapproval is clear in her tone. "Did you ever end up reporting that Dylan guy? Ugh," she shudders. "Such a creep. I don't want you two living under the same roof anymore."

"No, we don't live together anymore. I moved out."

Oops. Bad call. "You did? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I just- I didn't... you already have enough on your plate, mama."

Mom made this noise that was a cross between a tsk and a harumph. "I'm your mother. It's my job to help you with these kinds of things." A pause. Then: "These new roommates treating you better?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah, they're all so sweet. And awesome." I glance around Nessa's bathroom where a sea of hair and beauty products litter the counter. I see something shiny on the floor and pick it up, but when I see it's a used condom, I chuck it as far from me as possible. Meanwhile, mom's still chatting my ear up, something about the latest episode of The Bachelorette. "I still don't understand why Jerome didn't give Kelly the rose! She's such a catch. Ugh. Anyways, I'm glad you're in a good situation sweetheart. You've always been such a problem solver, my little angel. I'll have to visit you sometime."

Uh-oh. "Yeah, for sure."

When I hang up the phone, I face Nessa with an apologetic glance. "Send them an email for me" I tell her. I ignore her alarmed look. "Looks like I'm gaining some new roomies!"