Chapter Nine
Arden
When Margot called me about Danika needing a roommate, I thought it was a joke. There was no way that we could live together and both make it out alive. I was preparing to laugh in her face about it and then find my own roommate…until I saw her scrolling through craigslist.
When I said I would be like her lifeline, this isn’t exactly what I meant but a rambunctious girl like Danika would not last long with a stranger.
Us living together is truly the safest option.
And that’s the only reason I pitched it.
I didn’t expect her to say yes so quickly though.
I thought I’d have to do a little bit more convincing but I was glad that she came to her senses in a timely manner.
I know helping Danika is the right thing to do but what I didn’t do was give myself enough time to come to terms with the fact that the fiery redhead would be living with me full time until the deal was already done. I certainly didn’t realize how much having her in my space would affect me.
She’s already unpacked most of her stuff in her bedroom and now she’s moved on to the other rooms. The bathroom is already an explosion of pink, her toiletries everywhere and don’t get me started on the make-up. I’m going to have to get used to having mascara stains on all my towels at this rate.
She’s placed some decorative pillows and blankets on the couch, which I won’t admit to liking—even though I do. And she’s even lit a few candles that give the whole place a nice earthy smell.
“Okay, I’ll give. The candles are a nice touch,” I comment as I walk into her room, dropping the last bag she left in the hallway onto her desk chair.
“It smells good, right?”
I nod, and she seems satisfied with herself. She’s placing the final touches around the room, wall posters, ceiling star decals…it looks like a Seventeen magazine spread threw up in here. It’s definitely not my style but it’s one hundred percent Danika and I find myself grinning in spite of myself.
There’s a creased photograph on her nightstand and I lift it to get a closer look. An older woman holding a tween tightly. Both are smiling widely, as if they’d just heard the best joke ever. I recognize an adolescent Danika but the woman…
“My grandma,” Danika says, looking over my shoulder at the picture.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met her,” I comment.
She shakes her head. “You wouldn’t have. She was my mom’s mom who lived in Vermont. She died of breast cancer when I was thirteen.”
Actually, now that she mentions it, I remember a time when Danika came over crying and Margot brought her hot chocolate.
I remember feeling like I wanted to help but had no idea what to do so I sat outside Margot’s room all night in case Danika needed me.
Which is an absolutely crazy thing for a sixteen year old boy to do and in hindsight, I’m so glad she didn’t see me sitting out there. I don’t know what I would’ve said.
“It’s a nice picture,” I say, clearing my head of the image of me in the hallway.
“Thanks,” she smiles, taking it from me. “We used to collect rocks and pebbles together. I’ve got a collection of them in my top drawer. Seems silly to keep them now.”
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes the sentence. “It’s not silly at all. I would be a mess if I lost Memaw, so I get it.”
Danika puts the picture down. “Yeah, well. Lucky for you, Memaw is a tank, she’s not going anywhere,” she giggles.
“You’re so right,” I agree. I swear, some days I think my grandma is stronger than me. And there’s a secret part of me that loves that Danika knows that.
I look around the room one more time. “Almost done?”
She glances too. “Think so.”
“Good. I’m ordering pizza,” I say, leaving the room and pulling out my phone to make the order.
“Extra—” I hear Danika call after me but I cut her off with a simple, “Nope.”
Can’t be having her get too comfortable just yet. Even if this is her home now, too. Living with Danika Freeman…who would’ve thought.
At exactly six pm, she calls.
On Sunday evening, I stole away to my bedroom, shutting the door quietly so not to draw attention to the fact that I am hiding.
Which I’m not, really. But, having done these sessions over the phone for the past nine months, I’ve gotten good at making myself scarce from my roommate so that I’m not overheard.
“Hello, Arden.”
“Hi, Melissa."
“How has your week been?” Melissa loves to start each session with small talk.
When I first started seeing her in South Carolina, she would always ask me about my day and my week to help break the ice a bit.
I was never truly comfortable with the idea of talking to a stranger about all the things going wrong in my life but the conversation did help a bit.
Now, it’s part of the routine. Although, most of the time it just leads me into the topic I really want to talk about.
“It’s good. Danika moved in.”
Ripping the band aid right off.
“Oh. I didn’t know that was something you had planned.”
“It wasn’t. But you know my roommate moved out and it turned out that Danika needed a place to stay too so it was perfect.”
“Perfect?” She always catches onto my wording.
“I just mean, it worked out well for both of us.”
“I see. And how are you feeling, having her in your space?”
Melissa doesn’t need to ask about who Danika is or my relationship to her. I’ve been talking about her in our sessions ever since I came to study at TU. Not every time but she does come up every once in a while.
“It’s still very new but it feels okay. We haven’t killed each other yet.” I chuckle and Melissa hums on the other side of the phone.
“Well, I’m glad it’s worked out for you. I know you were worried about finding a roommate.” I nod even though she doesn’t see me. “Have you thought about how having someone from your childhood around might affect you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Only that Danika knows you from your youth, so you said, so she might evolve some feelings that you’ve otherwise not thought about.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Danika has always been the bright light when I was in my dark places. I think, if anything, it’ll be helpful.”
“That’s good, Arden.” I can tell she’s smiling through the phone. “I think this is a great development for you.”
We continue to talk for the rest of the hour. She asks about my classes and my work schedule. I tell her about my sister and how I haven’t reached out to my dad in a while. I will, when I’m more settled. For now, I need to focus on myself.
When I hang up, I feel lighter, like I always do after a therapy session with Melissa.
Not only has she been hugely helpful with my PTSD but she also has given me many strategies to control my anger and impulses.
If it weren’t for her, I don’t know where I’d be.
Certainly not anywhere near Danika, that’s for sure.
It’s still a long road ahead but I’m actually happy with my progress so far.
And for now, that’s enough.