3. Seth
Seth
I sit cross-legged on my couch, a copy of Vogue in my lap when I get a text from Andrew—my old roommate—telling me I need to come pick up the last of my stuff from the storage before the new tenant arrives on Friday.
I sigh. Just the idea of going back to that small house with the plain, white walls and the ugly, greyish wall-to-wall carpet, makes my stomach fall.
Some days the carpet got that sour, woolly smell, and no matter how many times I cleaned it, or opened the windows to air out, that awful smell seeped into my nose and my clothes until I felt like I was losing my mind.
Andrew said he never smelt it. That I was being dramatic and maybe it was me who smelled bad, not the carpet. But I had Kaden over a few times, and he said he smelt it, too.
I got this apartment just a few months back and I love it.
It’s got an open-floor plan with a roomy kitchen with an island separating it from the living room that has a nice brick wall.
And my parents got me this huge couch that my mom filled with enough throw pillows to fill a small warehouse.
One bedroom, that Kaden helped me paint dark grey, furnished with a king-size bed and a footboard bench. A big bathroom completes the place.
I don’t remember leaving anything at the old place, but I wanted to get out of there fast as I could, so I must have forgotten to check the storage.
I text Andrew back, asking how much stuff we’re talking about, because I don’t have a car, and Kaden sold his to afford rent when COVID closed us down.
Diaz only has an old Harley and Iggy doesn’t even have a driver’s license, let alone a car.
Which leaves Kit as my only alternative in my small circle of people here.
Andrew texts back saying I should come see for myself, so, Kit it is then.
Great.