Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Bex
Today, we moved into our grown-up apartment, all newly graduated and stepping into the big, chaotic world of full-time employment.
The four of us—Ben, Kelsey, Amy, and me—have been friends since high school, spending most weekends of the past decade together.
Inseparable, that’s what people say we are.
And I have to agree, I can’t imagine life without my friends.
Located in the center of a lovely little bustling community in London, our apartment is spacious and bright.
Within meters of our front door, there is a pub — The Smoking Goat, an express supermarket, a budget liquor store, and a hair salon, everything a twenty-three-year-old graduate teacher requires to live, work, and enjoy life in this fabulous city.
Never mind the fact that I’m sharing this experience with my three best friends in the world. I can’t wait to be lounging around the house, having TV dinners, and putting the world to rights with them.
Amy graduated in kinesiology in June. What that means to you and me is she learned how the human body moves.
She’s working at a local gym while studying toward her personal training qualifications.
Amy is an all-out health addict. Her dream is to own a gym one day.
Being the success-driven person she is, I have no doubt she will achieve everything she wants.
I used to be jealous of Amy. She was the sister who won all the trophies and had all the friends.
Feeling like the odd one out is something I became used to. With my strong features, it was harder to be one of the girls. It still is. I don’t have the same feminine beauty to work with, never finding a method to make the best of my canvas.
But Amy always makes sure I’m included. She’s looked out for me since we were in our teens and I didn’t have a date to prom. Being a twin isn’t easy, especially when you’re the ugly one.
Ben and Kelsey were high school sweethearts. It’s a bonus, because it meant we only needed a three-bed apartment, but the rent is still split four ways.
In school, they were the beautiful couple, Prom King and Queen, captains of the soccer and basketball squads, etc., etc. How they ended up friends with me, the class geek, I’ll never know. Ben is a doctor, and Kelsey is a nurse. I mean, they are so fucking textbook perfect, it’s cringeworthy.
Even now, when Kelsey gets out of bed, her loungewear matches, and her eyeliner is always on point. I wonder how she does it.
Ben’s the kind of guy who looks good even in a scruffy t-shirt.
He graduated top of his class and is destined for great things in the medical world.
Various positions across the UK, and even in the States, were offered to him, but he turned them all down to stay with Kelsey.
I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if he didn’t.
Kelsey said she told him to go. I’ve always doubted if he really had a choice.
She wouldn’t move because her dad is on his own now.
Her mum passed away when she was in her teens.
I don’t think either of them has ever gotten over the loss.
She speaks to her dad every day at least once.
The organization of his house falls to her, with fresh meals delivered daily and weekly cleaners.
It’s almost as if she still lives with him but from a distance, overseeing his well-being.
The four of us hang out together all the time.
We’re all friends, and it just so happens two of us are fucking.
Not me, obviously. But it works. We support each other and will have a great time.
I think this living arrangement can only go well.
Our first night as roommates is a Friday, the ideal pizza and beer night. I pin a note to the fridge, telling everyone to be there.
The party is starting tonight! Pizza and beer!
Rendezvous in our living room at seven!
Wear your pajamas!
I laugh at myself as I read the message back. We’re so boring. Years of partying have made us dull. None of us start our new roles until Monday except Amy, who is already working, so we have the weekend to unpack and settle in.
Right now, our apartment looks as if the delivery men dumped all the boxes in our living room.
Which they did. Instead of being proactive, Kelsey, Amy, and I built castles with them this afternoon.
We drank wine, then pretended to be princesses waiting for a dashing knight to save us.
It was silly and perfect. For once, even Kelsey let the mask slip.
When Ben got home from his induction meeting at the hospital, our lack of productivity didn’t impress him. But he enjoyed being Kelsey’s knight, dragging her off to the bedroom to save the day.
I laughed with the others. But later, when the noise faded, I found myself pressing play on the sitcom we never finished. My night ending alone as everyone else moved on with their plans.
Note to self: I must look at soundproofing options for their room, or perhaps noise-canceling headphones may be a better option.
Stuffed to the brim and well-greased on beer, we all lounge on the sofa. Pizza and beer night has been a tremendous success. Not that it wouldn’t have been; the four of us have done this a hundred times before, but this is the first time we have had pizza and beer in our own home.
We had the same argument over which pizzas to order, and as usual, ended up ordering one of each. My favorite is ham and pineapple. Ben says pineapple on pizza is diabolical. He pinched a piece off my slice with a grin.
Our fingers brushed, just for a second. I giggled shyly and took a gulp of beer, squashing down the unwelcome feeling in my belly. Personally, I feel the Hawaiian pizza is a much under-appreciated delicacy, and that Ben can be too appealing when I least expect him to be.
I’m lucky to be living my best life surrounded by my best friends. We have so much to look forward to. The year ahead is exciting. Sitting in my half-drunken state, I’m happier than I have ever been. It’s nice to have finally lost the sullen teenager who clung to me from years ago.
“Oi, sis. What’s with the halfwit smile on your face?” Amy slurs from her couch.
“This halfwit is happy to be here with all you roasters.”
Ben and Kelsey stick their fingers down their throat in unison.
“Urgh, pass the sick bag,” Kelsey goads, and we all fall into fits of giggles.
A loud bang at the door interrupts our festivities. Our eyes dart between each other. “Does anyone know who it is? Or anybody expecting someone?” I ask. They all shake their heads, eyes wide, wondering who is at the door.
Kelsey and I watched too many London, inner-city crime documentaries before moving. We thoroughly terrified the shit out of ourselves. I hadn’t been able to sleep for a week, dreaming of masked men, and not in a good way.
A booming voice erupts from the other side of the door, “Come on. I know you’re in there. Come and meet your neighbor.”
Ben jumps up, running toward the noise. He’s wearing his tartan pajama bottoms with a terrible character t-shirt. He doesn’t look like the hotshot trainee doctor tonight. He looks like a dork. A really hot dork. I bury the inappropriate thought.
A giant suddenly enters our living room, followed by Ben.
He’s huge, filling the doorframe. A broad smile is plastered across his face, and bright green eyes, full of mischief, survey the room.
This man is attractive in a lovable way.
He’s not classically good looking, but he’s interesting, his sandy-blond hair worn long and falling over his forehead.
You know by looking at him, your day just got better. He holds his arms wide.
“Welcome to the building, folks,” he bellows.
I wonder if he has volume control. “I hope you lot are more exciting than the last boring bastards who lived here.” We all sit, taken aback.
He reminds me of a Nordic Viking. Big and brawny.
No one utters a word, so he continues with his introduction.
“Well, as none of you are forthcoming, I will go first.” He smiles.
“I’m Terry Trodden, yes, Trodden, like you stepped in something. ”
I can’t help it; I burst out laughing, and winks at me.
“You’ve no idea how good a pickup line that is.
” He laughs, and it’s infectious. “I’ve lived here, Flat 6A, for five years.
It’s a two-bedroom, but I live by myself.
Moved to London to chase the dream with a mate, but he lost his mind and got married.
” He waggles his eyebrows and smirks. “Anyway, I’m thirty-one, single, and looking for the partner. Any takers?”
At this point, I’m not sure if he’s joking or not. I sit quietly on the sofa and sip my beer.
“I work at a double-glazing sales company while I’m trying to make my name as an actor,” he continues. “Maybe you saw me in the hemorrhoid advert I did last year?” We all look blankly at him, shaking our heads. “Enough about me. Who are you all?”
One by one, we give him a brief history of ourselves.
Name, place of birth, job, and our hobbies.
My hobbies don’t account for much, drinking beer and watching TV seemingly don’t count.
I sit, watching the proceedings in awe. How can a stranger barge into your home and take hold of the reins so easily?
An hour later, we’re all chatting like old friends, having drunk another case of beer.
He’s got us to disclose some of our most embarrassing secrets.
So far, he knows about Ben being caught tied to a lamppost with his pants down during a university prank day, my close encounter with a male professor in his office, and Amy being caught shoplifting.
Kelsey’s so pure that not even Terry Trodden can get any dirt on her.
It turns out the hemorrhoid advert has been Terry’s only mainstream TV appearance so far. He’s made a few appearances locally as the drag queen, Vixen Vicky, starred in three low-budget porn movies, and been a stunt double in a movie that never aired.
But apart from that, he’s spent the past five years bouncing from one pointless job to another. According to him, having a hell of a lot of fun in the process. Terry Trodden lives life in the moment. He says he considers himself pansexual.
Seemingly, that means you look beyond gender and are attracted to the person, not their sexuality. To me, that seems a positive way to live, not restricting yourself to a box, living the way that feels right to you. Loving who feels right.
Since I was a teenager, I’ve been trying to tick off a checklist.
Exams, tick.
University, tick.
Graduate, tick.
Get a job, tick.
But have all those ticks been what I wanted, or what I thought I should want?
When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a flight attendant and traveling the globe, waking up in different places while seeing the wonders of the world.
My family told me a flight attendant was nothing but a glorified waitress, a trolley dolly.
I accepted that judgment and moved on to a more appropriate career with prospects.
What I would give to live a day in the life of Terry. To be as carefree. To not worry about what’s around the corner. Just to experience life in its raw state. Maybe it’s time I stopped following the plan. Maybe it’s time I started asking for what I want.
I have a good feeling about Terry Trodden; he’s going to be a wonderful addition to our little group and to my life.