I'm making my bed when I hear a thump at the door.
"Ugh, Jesus! When did shoes get so heavy?" my roommate Pansy asks, as she lugs her tenth suitcase into our shared room. Two of her butlers (she calls them "house helpers" but be so fucking for real, they're butlers) stumble in behind dragging two more suitcases each.
"Maybe if you didn't pack so much shit, it wouldn't be so heavy," I tell her. We seem to have this same conversation verbatim at the start of every school year, and it's starting to get old.
"Why do you need so much stuff anyway?" I ask her.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand Y/N, but the more money you have the nicer you want to look! And looking nice is a process that requires a lot of, as you put it, 'stuff."' She explains, using air quotes on stuff.
She doesn't mean anything by that. Not really. It's just that Pansy has more money than God, and tends to say some insensitive things to people who don't have as much as her (aka me). She'll never win an Olympic medal in reading the room, that's for sure, but she's alright. Out of all the girls in our grade, she's actually one of the nicer ones to me. So like always, I overlook her little comment.
"Ah, I see..." I respond. As I'm stuffing my pillows into pillowcases, Pansy starts giving her butlers orders on where to place the suitcases, how to unpack her fancy dresses, blah blah blah. She holds up a pair of her designer shoes into the light to examine, and it hurts my wallet just looking at them.
Just then, my best friend Enzo comes in with his signature stride like he owns the place.
"Hey Grams, how's move-in day going?" He asks me, slinging an arm around my shoulder. That's my nickname in our friend group. Grams. As in Grandma. Because I like to stay in and read a good book or play a board game instead of sneaking out and partying until I vomit each night. Excuse me for having different interests than my friends, how shameful I know. This nickname pisses me off to no end, and they all know it. Which pisses me off even more.
I shrug his arm off of me, even though I've missed his smell. It's a musky mix of pine and orange. It reminds me of spending summers with Enzo and his family up at their manor, swimming in the pool by day, and sitting by the fire by night. It reminds me of safety. Home.
"Aww, don't be like that Y/N. You know you've missed me," he teases while kissing me on the cheek. It's true. This summer was the first in many years that I didn't spend with him and his family. He went on some country-hopping excursions, popping from country to country to visit Jewish landmarks and "become one with the Jewish culture," as he puts it in front of his parents. We all know he actually only wanted to go for the free vacation, but I can't blame him. Instead, I spent my summer at home in the stupid suburbs of Jersey, dying of boredom and eating disco fries with my mom. A lame summer for a lame girl...
"I know I've missed you, Enz," Pansy flirts while batting her eyelash-extensioned eyes at him. I turn away from them so they can't see me roll my eyes. Pansy has had a thing for Enzo for the longest time, and always begs me to set her up with him.
What if she's only nice to me because she wants to get with Enzo? I shoo the mean thought from my head before I can think about it again. Pansy might be prissy and out of touch with reality, but she means well. She wouldn't use me like that, not like some of the other girls in this school...
"Oh I've missed you too baby" Enzo chuckles and throws a wink in Pansy's direction. I fake gag at them. Enzo's a manwhore. He'll flirt with anything that has a pulse: girl, guy, doesn't matter. He's conventionally attractive and knows it. He knows he could have anyone he wanted, and honestly more power to him. If I looked like him, I would use my looks to my advantage too. Whore-it up.
Enzo responds to my gagging, "Aw don't be jealous babes. I've got something that will cheer you up real good." He smirks and my stomach drops. I have no clue what he has up his sleeve this time. From his backpack, he pulls out a bag of edibles and a fifth of vodka. "Ladies, we're gonna have fun at the welcome-back bash tonight!"
My jaw drops. I frantically rush over to him. "Enzo are you crazy? My parents are downstairs parking the car. They could be back any minute! Put it away!" He chuckles at my outburst, which makes me want to punch him.
At the same time, Pansy punches the air. "Hell yeah! If you tell my parents about this, you're dead." The second sentence was addressed to her butlers who have been busy unpacking her things for her. They cover their ears and mime 'cross my heart.' House helpers my ass...
"Don't worry Grams, I'm putting it away. Geez, I'm surprised you even know what this stuff is." Enzo chuckles.
"I'm not that innocent!" I protest. Pansy and Enzo share a knowing look over my head, which makes me want to punch Enzo out even more. "Where'd you even get that shit?"
"A gentleman never kisses and tells." He winks at me and I fake gag again.
"Y/N, are you in here? We're back," my mom yells from the common room. I panic. My parents are as strict as they come. Even the thought of them being in the same room as pot leaves a sinking feeling in my stomach. I rush towards the door. "Yes, but I'll come to you!" I shout.
I point a finger at Enzo, "Put that shit away, and don't either of you mention it to my parents. You know how they get."
Enzo cracks a smile that reaches his whole face. "Oh I wouldn't dream of it"
Enzo's ability to push my buttons is otherworldly, I swear! I want to yell at him that I'm serious, but I can hear my footsteps coming up the stairs.
"I don't understand why she brings her parents if they're lame like this. Why not just hire a driver?" I overhear Pansy ask Enzo as I rush out to greet them.
"Hey! I just finished making my bed." I say, hoping I don't sound suspicious.
"Okay great. Do you want to take a break? Your mother and I are starving," my dad asks. I breathe a sigh of relief. Anything to get them away from the pot and booze.
"Yeah, me too. Let's go grab something to eat."
YOU ARE READING
City Shadows
RomanceY/N has always had a hard time fitting in. She's too loud, too brash, too this, too that. She's about as feminine as a toilet brush, and everyone knows it. Kids at her school aren't necessarily mean to her, they just pretend she doesn't exist. The o...
