The Roommate

The really frustrating thing for me was to be cut out of the loop. He
wasn’t talking to me. A month ago, I had had enough and I confronted
him. He came home with some shopping bags, grunted a hello, and then
went straight to his bedroom. A minute later, I went to his room and
knocked on it.

“Bob. Hey, what’s up? Can I come in?” I asked.

“Hey Geoff. One sec.”

I heard some ruffling going on, then the door opened slowly. “Hey
buddy. I just wanted to check in with you. It’s been a while and,
y’know, I want to see what’s the latest.” I kind of pushed my way into
his room as I was talking and he backed behind the door.

The first thing I noticed was that his room looked different. He had
redecorated it. It looked frilly and soft, with muted colors. The
Pearl Jam posters were gone. I took a seat on his white lace bed
spread and turned to face him as he continued to stand by the door.
His body language looked like he was eager for me to leave.

“Well. Yeah. It has been a while. What have you been up to?” Bob
asked.

“Me? Nothing much. I’ve just been wondering about you. You seem
different. I wanted to make sure you are OK.” He didn’t look OK.
Or, I mean, not like Bob OK. I think he was wearing some mascara and
his hair was teased up into a softer looking style. He might have
looked OK if you were looking at somebody else. But he wasn’t the Bob
I knew. “You still seeing Carol?”

“Carol? Yes. She’s great. We’re seeing a lot of each other. In
fact, I was just with her… shopping.” His eyes darted over to a
shopping bag on the floor. Frederick’s of Hollywood.

That piqued my interest right away. “Frederick’s eh? You two getting
creative?” And I made a move over to the bag to see what was in it.

Bob dashed over to pick it up and held it in his hands, preventing me
from getting into it. “Well, you know girls. Always have to buy them
something pretty.”