Chapter 20
“You’re making the right decision,” Jacob’s mother said happily.
Jacob nodded. Then when he remembered they weren’t FaceTiming, he said, “Uh-huh.”
“Uh-huh,” his mother intoned mockingly. “What are you, a gorilla?”
“Sorry,” Jacob said, automatically. “I meant yes. Thank you.”
Jacob’s father spoke up again. “Hand us to the kid again.”
Jacob held back a sigh. Then he passed the phone over the coffee table to David, who took it with a polite nod.
“This is David,” David said into the phone, as he had already done when Jacob handed him over earlier.
Jacob sat back against the living room couch, cringing.
He thought he could make it through this whole lease-signing without giving into his parents, but sure enough, he caved.
All this talk about New Jacob, but here he was: twenty years old, freshly finished his second year of college, and he couldn’t say no to his parents when they asked to speak to his new roommate-slash-landlord.
At least David didn’t seem particularly put out by it. He said all the right things, even making his mother laugh a few times before David held the phone out over the coffee table again.
“They’d like to talk to you,” he said.
Jacob held back a remark about that being obvious and took the phone back. “Guys, I have to let you go.”
“He seems wonderful,” his mother gushed. “You picked perfectly, Jakey.”
“Best fit we could hope for,” his father said.
“Yeah, he’s great.” Jacob smiled rigidly at David, who nodded back politely. “Okay, bye, guys. Love you.”
“Love you,” they chorused.
Jacob hung up and put his phone away, then dropped his head into his hands. “I’m so sorry about that. They wouldn’t shut up about it. Mom threatened to fly over from Pennsylvania.”
“She’s welcome to visit,” said David mildly. “I would prefer if she didn’t stay here for more than a week, though.”
“A week,” Jacob blurted, laughing nervously. “Whoa, no, you don’t have to worry about that. She won’t come. I won’t let her.”
“Alright,” David said in that same measured tone. He gestured at the coffee table, where the lease was sitting. “So, now that that’s over with, how do you feel about signing the lease?”
“Great,” Jacob blurted. “Thank you, again. You didn’t have to put up with that.”
“I didn’t mind,” David said as Jacob flipped through the lease. He smiled again, and this time it was oddly soft. “It’s nice to talk to parents who have such obvious love for their son.”
Jacob said nothing, his eyes glued to the lease. He read everything through before he signed it. Even terms and conditions when he signed up to a website. It drove Felix crazy.
“Although,” David continued. “I can imagine it would be a bit stifling.”
Jacob let out a laugh that, in retrospect, sounded too much like a scream.
“They’re choking me,” he admitted, grinning despite himself.
“Who the hell needs their parents to talk to their new landlord? Maybe some people, but not me! I didn’t fucking ask!
But do they care? No! I don’t want them to pry into every little bit of my life, but do they care?
No! It’s like they want to cultivate me into this perfect version of their son, but that version sucks!
I hate that version! That version is a quiet, cowardly little fuck who’s so repressed he can’t even admit to himself—”
He cut himself off, shocked. He’d never said anything like that out loud before. Not to anyone but Felix, anyway.
“Sorry,” he said. “Too much information.”
“It’s fine,” David said, but he looked surprised. A little wary, like he wasn’t sure what he was signing up for after all.
Jacob looked down at the lease. He’d clenched it when he started his tirade. He smoothed it out, muttering another apology, and went to sign his initial on the first page.
Nothing happened. The pen moved uselessly, no ink coming out.
“Ah,” David said. “My apologies. Let me get you another.”
“No, I got it.” Jacob reached to his shirt pocket, glad once again for his pocket protector. Then he stopped.
His fingers brushed a pen. But it wasn’t the only thing he was touching: there, in the depths of his shirt pocket, was a tiny tube of Felix’s hand cream. He kept a few in his shirt pocket sometimes, in case the one in his pants pocket ran out.
An unnameable emotion squeezed Jacob’s heart. But before Jacob could shove it into the depths of his mind, it became clear: regret. He couldn’t shove these feelings down anymore. Felix had unleashed them, and they wouldn’t go away.
“Is everything okay?” David asked.
“Yeah,” Jacob croaked, automatic. He cleared his throat, which was uncomfortably thick. “I think… I think I need to take another day to think about it.”
“Oh,” said David. “If that’s what you need.”
He sounded surprised. Jacob didn’t blame him—they’d been talking about this for months. Jacob made the poor guy talk to his parents.
“Are you sure everything is alright?” David continued.
“Everything’s great,” Jacob replied, pushing the lease and David’s worthless pen back onto the coffee table. “I just need to check on something.”
The apartment building hallway smelled like old cheese. But there were no cracks in the wallpaper, no water damage, and most importantly, no evidence of insects. Jacob had been worried.
He knocked on the door then stood back, straightening his hair.
It’s just Felix, he reminded himself. He won’t laugh at you, even if you do tell him. You’ll always be friends. He promised.
The door opened. Jacob took a deep breath…
…then let it out in a shocked whoosh when he saw the man in the doorway.
“Jack,” Jacob said warily. “What are you doing here?”
Jack Smith snorted. He had a beer in his hand and his stubble was thicker than usual, his eye bags more pronounced. Jacob wondered how many essays he’d had to mark this week in between his various part-time jobs.
“He hasn’t told you yet,” Jack said flatly.
“Told me what?” Jacob said, his voice pitching embarrassingly high.
“Jesus Christ, kid. Calm down.” Jack took a swig of his beer and turned back to shout into the apartment: “FELIX! Tell your guy before he has an aneurysm.”
“Tell me what?” Jacob demanded.
Shane jogged up, considerably less flushed than when he was moving boxes. “Hey, you’re here. That means we can eat.”
“And yell,” called Nate from somewhere in the apartment.
Jack stood back to let Jacob come inside. Jacob eyed the scant few boxes stacked along the wall. The apartment opened right into the living room, where Nate was sitting at a table filled with a gorgeous dinner, scrolling through his phone.
“Yell,” Jacob said, closing the apartment door behind him. “Why are we yelling?”
“You know Felix,” Shane said, heading to the table and sitting next to Nate. “He loves to yell. Especially in public.”
“They’re going to the roof,” Jack said, taking the spot across from them. “Gonna piss off the neighbors by screaming about how it’s their very first night in their very first apartment. I’m gonna stay here and drink all the beer.”
“Why are you here?” Jacob demanded, unable to stop himself. “And who made all of this?”
He gestured at the table. There was a roast duck in the middle, steaming and golden. It was surrounded by several side plates: green beans, mashed potato swimming in butter, shiny peas. There was gravy in a giant measuring cup, presumably due to the lack of a gravy boat.
It smelled heavenly. It was miles beyond the takeout Jacob had been imagining on the way here.
“There’s also a carrot cake,” Shane mentioned, twisting to look at the kitchen door. “FELIX! Where’s that cake?”
There was a pause. Then Felix screamed back through the closed door, “It’s staying in here until dessert, you animal!”
Carrot cake, Jacob thought, an impossible suspicion brewing in the back of his head. I love carrot cake.
He took a step toward the kitchen.
The kitchen door swung open. Felix marched out, panting. His hair was a catastrophe, dots of flour and cream cheese sticking in his locks. Mashed potato was smeared into his jeans. He was carrying a tray of roast vegetables tossed with oil and herbs.
“Fucking animals,” Felix said. Then he spotted Jacob and stopped. “Hey! You’re early.”
Jacob nodded numbly. He wanted to tell Felix he didn’t sign the lease. But he couldn’t stop staring at the nonsensical sight in front of him as Felix placed the tray of roast vegetables next to the duck.
“Okey-dokes,” Felix said. “I’m gonna… go clean up.” He headed back to the kitchen.
Nate groaned, leaning back in his chair to watch him. “What? Cleaning is for later! Come sit down, we’re starving!”
“I’m eating,” Shane announced, grabbing the carving knife next to the duck. “Jacob, you sitting down or are you just gonna stand there and stare?”
Jacob stood and stared. The table looked like it had been freshly scrubbed before the plates were put down. Delicious scents wafted over him, making his suspicion grow.
“This looks great,” Jacob said. “Who made this?”
Just like before, nobody answered right away. The boys at the table traded looks, as if trying to decide who would talk first.
Jack took a long swallow of beer and burped. “Your buddy cooked it.”
“But… Felix can’t cook.”
“He learned.” Jack started peeling the label off his beer, looking utterly unconcerned by the realization that was shattering Jacob to pieces.
“Came over to my place every week. Sometimes a few times. Forty bucks a session to teach him how to cook. He can even bake some stuff. Wouldn’t shut up about the carrot cake.
And he paid this other guy to teach him how to clean. ”
Jacob’s ears rang. He felt like he might pass out. “Why would he do that?” he managed.
Jack shrugged. He looked at the others, who avoided his gaze until Jack sighed. “Honestly? I think he just wanted to be a good roommate.”
The words radiated through Jacob’s skin and into his bones. He reached up to touch the hand cream in his shirt pocket, filled with so much emotion he couldn’t identify it if he was given a hundred years. But he could feel it, finally—because of Felix.
“Excuse me,” he said faintly.