• Tomorrow Will Be Different • {J.C} (P.1)

• Chapter Six •

        Weeks had passed since Erin moved into Albert's apartment, and the tension between her and Al's roommate wasn't getting any better. In fact, the tension may have been worse.

Julian had at least spoken to her the first night she was there; but as of now, he only acknowledged her when he absolutely had to—when bumping into her in the hall; or as she passed by him on the step as he smoked a cigarette while she was coming in from work.

        She was constantly moving his shit around, basically forcing Julian to go on scavenger hunts for his own things.

Julian would leave his plate setting out to go to the bathroom, or to take a phone call, only to come back and find his food in the trash and his dishes washed and put away.

He couldn't leave a drink on his own coffee table with Erin around. It would disappear, and then magically re-appear in the fridge. The ashtrays were always emptied; he could no longer search for partially smoked cigarettes—which was a pain in the ass when his pack ran out and he didn't feel like walking to the nearest convenient store.

        To say Julian was bothered by Erin's compulsive tidiness was an understatement, he was maddened by it—it was driving him fucking insane.

What was more frustrating, was the fact that she assumed it was perfectly acceptable to have her things scattered about the apartment. Her blankets, her clothes—even though they were neatly folded and set aside, it didn't matter—her things were still out when Julian's weren't allowed to be.

He waited impatiently for the day she slipped up—when Erin would leave a half eaten plate of food at the table, or a full can of pop out on the counter.
Sadly... that day hadn't come yet.

       Already dressed for his shift, (that didn't start for another three hours) Julian sprawled out in his bed re-reading Aldous Huxley's, Brave New World. Nearly anything was better than taking a chance on running into Erin.

Cautiously looking around the corner of his bedroom door, Julian listened for proof of Erin's absence. He heard Albert cuss, followed by the sound of something hitting the floor.

Julian exhaled quietly, moving to the sound of Albert's whereabouts, leading him into the kitchen.

        "It's fucking hot." Al said, just before sucking the pad of his thumb. Steam was coming off the plate in his hand—the pizza cutter in the floor by his feet.

        "Is... Renny gone?" Julian asked, wanting to laugh at the nickname Al had so maliciously given her.

Jules had overheard Albert call her "Renny" instead of Erin, which then started a bickering match between the pair—Erin insisting the name was offensive—she wasn't male. Al then spent the following ten minutes arguing that the name meant 'small and mighty,' which was something she should feel good about.

Erin was small, yes, but Julian didn't think of Erin as mighty—not by a long shot. It didn't matter though; Erin hated the name—so that's what he referred to her as...
...when she wasn't around.

       "I think she just stepped outside for a minute." Albert tried taking a bite of pizza; his lips curling away from his teeth as he sucked in air through his mouth.

"I need to talk to you—this has been bothering me for a while now. I..." Julian released a heavy sigh, trying his best to word his thoughts carefully without indignation. "I can't keep my mouth shut about it anymore."

        "You got a problem with Erin living here."

"How did you know?" Julian's face lit up as he sarcastically beamed with surprise.
"She's constantly moving my shit—I don't know where anything is. I've bought six lighters since she's lived here. Keep in mind that this girl hasn't even been here a month. I can't find my clothes, my fucking jackets-"

"Your clothes are in your dresser, your jackets are in the closet."

"She's been in my fucking room?" Julian's eyes became round and angry with shock.

"No, I put 'em away." Albert insisted.

        Erin had been taking everyone's laundry to the mat every Friday after work. She'd fold everyone's clothes and have them neatly set in the basket on the table—or on the sofa. After putting his own clothes away, Al would then put away Julian's; sometimes while he was sleeping or while he was at work.

Julian had walked right by his own clothes several times before Al decided that perhaps Jules was ignoring all the nice things Erin had done, so he wouldn't have to thank her.

        "What's this girl got over you?" Julian folded his arms with narrowed eyes, intensely questioning what Albert had done to get himself in this situation—what Al had done to get him in this situation.

"What do you mean?"

"What are you gettin out of this?"

"Uh... good karma? I don't know."

           Julian scoffed. "Are you at least gettin any?—Is she puttin out?"

"Fuck you." Albert spoke with a mouthful of food. "Erin's great. We have a clean apartment, we ain't gotta do dishes, our clothes are always clean, we have food in the fridge. When it was just us, the only thing in that fridge was leftovers and beer."

        Julian closed his eyes tightly in annoyance when hearing the sound of the apartment door open. He didn't have to turn around to know that it was Erin. He waited for her footsteps to trail away before speaking again.

         "Her being here is really putting a strain on things."

"You're delusional." Albert teased.

"Her being here is making me resent you." Julian elaborated on what he had meant—his animosity was starting to be directed at Albert. "It's making me uncomfortable. I can't walk from one end of the apartment to the other in my underwear, I can't expect my shit to be where I last left it. I can't even take a piss with the door open—in my own fucking house. When I bring girls back, I gotta explain why there's another girl already here-"

"You hardly even see her. You don't try to be nice, or take the time to get to know her. If anyone asks why there's another chick here, just tell 'em she's with me—tell 'em she's your roommate's girlfriend or something."

        Julian didn't like Albert's answer; he wanted Al to tell him when Erin would be leaving—it wasn't coming soon enough.

Julian sighed, picking at the corner of his eye a little too harshly. "You let her stay here without talking to me about it first—you just let her move in here. This goes deeper than her being a pain in my ass, this is about you disrespecting me... it's about crossing boundaries."

"Come on man—don't be like that."

        Julian shook his head, turning around before Al could see him roll his eyes at his unwillingness to hear the ugly truth that this girl was interfering with their friendship.

       He stormed off to his room, stopping in his tracks with an actual stomp when seeing that Erin—who was not only in his room—was using his phone.

Jules started to lash out—he was about to assail into a verbal attack that would make her want to move out.

But when Erin looked back at him over her shoulder, he saw her face. It was red and contorted with agony; her lips were trembling with pain etched in her eyes—Erin was crying.

        "I- I gotta go." Erin spoke into the phone with a tight voice just before a very loud sniffle.

Fuck no—Julian was not about to falsely console some girl he was trying so desperately to kick out. He didn't like her, and he wasn't about to pretend that he liked her, just to save face.

        Julian quickly snatched his cigarettes and lighter from the bed, rushing out of his bedroom. He took wide steps, slamming the apartment door shut—going to work three hours early.