Salt And Pepper

His: Roomie

Clichē. Guy hates girl, girl hates guy, somehow forced to live together. I HATED Bryce for this, moving her into my apartment. The heck am I giving up the big room, which is where I sleep.

I ignore her presence and walk over to the mini-fridge which was actually my bar to grab a beer. Mickey* for some reason wants me to be with her, in spirit at least. I prepare an argument for him, and as soon as I turn around, Pepper snatches the bottle away from me and chugs it down in what seemed like a single gulp while I stand there, dumbfounded.

"Umm...?" I inquire.

"You're off alcohol." she says.

"Haha no I'm not," I say as I bend down and open the mini-fridge to grab another bottle, when she kicks the door shut."

"What the heck?" I yell.

"I'm your therapist. You are off alcohol." She says, indifferent.

"And you can gulp it down like that?" I ask, my voice weirdly high-pitched.

"You're the patient. I'm not. I'll shift that to my room now," she says as she unplugs the machine and picks it up with her Nebraska man-hands and heads to my room.

"That's not your room," I say as I run and block the door.

"Move or you'll need ice to put on your nuts and well the fridge is mine now," she says with a huge, sarcastic grin.

I curl and walk away instinctively. Hitler Hansen here had to go. I hear Mickey laughing at a distance.

"Feistyyyy. I like that."

I suddenly hear a slight shriek coming from the bathroom. Please break your hip. PLEASE break your hip!

She prances out of the bathroom and asks with that annoying smile of hers -"How are you an artist, boy? You can't even aim and you expect me to believe you draw with precision?"

"Umm... paint."

"What?" she asks.

"I paint. I'm not in middle school, I paint. Er.. paint-ed," I reply.

" There we go with the negativity again," she says.

"Well now that even you're here, I don't have much to be positive about, do I? Anyway, move. I gotta go change. My friend just started with his new bar today. I gotta go check it out," I lie. I didn't have friends. Well, not ones that called often and invited me out. And that was a good thing in ways.

"Firstly, I'm surprised that you have friends. And secondly, didn't you hear me when I said no alcohol?" she smirks.

"Its a.. err.. JUICE bar! Yeah. People are getting health conscious here in New York. You wouldn't know." I say

"Shut up, park your butt on the sofa and get me pizza," she says.

"What seriously? You're gonna start off with your bullshit again?"

"I'm guessing you don't have cable and if Netflix counts as my bullshit, then yeah. My sessions will be limited to 3 hours a day," she says.

"Netflix and chill with you? No thanks, imma leave now," I say.

She shrugs and starts connecting her Mac to my TV. I literally run to the bowl where I keep my keys and I find it empty. 

"Where are my car keys?" I ask.

"Oh Mr Howard took a cab to this place so I gave him the idea of taking your car on his way back." comes the cheeky reply.

Et tu, Bryce?

*the identity of Mickey will be revealed later