Roomies by Lindy Zart

Author:Lindy Zart [Zart, Lindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-11-20T05:00:00+00:00

BEING A MONDAY and all, the day wasn't terrible. The highlight was when I opened the cleaning supply closet and caught Dr. Olman and Sally making out. Busted! At least they were clothed, so I don't think there will be any long term trauma to my brain or eyes. At least, I can say I wasn't instantly blinded, so that has to be a good sign. I guess I won't really know until I attempt to make out with a guy, preferably Graham, and see if I am bombarded by visions of old people groping or not. I should ask him to be my guinea pig and test it out.

It was kind of funny when Dr. Olman said Sally got locked in the closet and he was trying to help her get out, but then he got locked inside too. There is no lock on the door. And even if there was, how would he first enclose himself in the closet and then lock it? I suppose it depends on what kind of lock there is, but still, it is a moot point, as there is no lock on the door. I tried telling him that and then he said the door must have somehow gotten stuck. Yeah. And then they just decided to pass the time by making out. Makes perfect sense. It's what I would do in the same situation. Well, if Graham was nearby.

My cell phone buzzes as I get into the sauna-like atmosphere of my car. I keep the door open so I can at least breathe and pull the phone from my purse. With a groan, I answer. “Hey, Dad.”

Phoebe waves as she heads for her vehicle and I nod in acknowledgment, waiting to see what awesomeness my father is about to bestow upon me.

“Have you seen the TV remote?”

Now, this would be a strange question to ask someone that doesn't live with you and hasn't been to your house in over a week, but this is my father we're talking about. Nothing with him surprises me.

“Why would you think I would know where your remote control is?” Exasperation has put an implied sigh in my voice.

“You used it the last time you were here.”

“Haven't you used it since then?”

There is a pause. “Maybe.”

I rub my perspiring forehead and crank the AC higher, grudgingly shutting the door so all the cool air doesn't seep out whenever it decides to become cool. The fake cherry smell of the car is potent, reminding me of cough syrup, and I eye the cherries swaying from the rear-view mirror, seriously thinking about ripping them down and putting myself out of my misery.

“So then it would make more sense that you would know where it is,” I explain slowly.

“Maybe Graham knows. He was here with you.”

“I have to go now. I need to go walking.”

“Walking. Walking is overrated,” he scoffs.

“You're right. We should all never walk again. That'll show our legs.”

“Stop by when you're done and see if you can find the remote.

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